


Petit à Petit

by Yilena



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Minor Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 00:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 49,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yilena/pseuds/Yilena
Summary: When Marinette goes undercover in another realm, she meets the first person like her in her life. Unfortunately, she continues living a lie and keeps that to herself while trying to figure out why her boss sent her away in the first place. AU.





	Petit à Petit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [overworkedunderwhelmed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/overworkedunderwhelmed/gifts).



> Thank you, _overworkedunderwhelmed_! I really hope this is okay for you! I tried to be creative with the prompts. Tongsaom, Kyuon, and Yeonyn were made by squishing randomly generated words together. I tend to stay away from faery stories, so I'm quite clueless to their tropes. I try to have plot twists that aren't very common in my works, but I'm pretty much blind here. Sorry if you've read something similar before.

_Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Chat Noir © Thomas Astruc_

“You're the best for this.”

The words didn't do anything to comfort her. Marinette grimaced, pulling her hat down further, a nervous tick that she'd never grown out of. “You're saying that because I'm the only one that can do it.”

“I'll correct myself, then,” her superior replied with a no-nonsense tone. “I believe you're qualified enough for this.”

Rather being a compliment, it came across as condescending. “Qualified?” she parroted, her face an expression of pure loathing as she stared up at her boss. “Is that really what you want to call it?”

There was no denying that she hadn't gained the height that she'd desperately wanted growing up. It was common for her to be the smallest in the room of adults, and young teenagers tended to sprout up and overtake her during puberty.

“Marinette.” His face softened, the corners of his mouth not being pulled down from the frown any more. “You signed up for this, remember?”

“I signed up to help find out why people are being killed,” she corrected, eyebrows pinched together to show her disapproval of the situation. “I didn't volunteer to send myself to Tongsaom—I'm not suicidal, no matter what some might believe.”

There wasn't any love between them. While her boss had been an acquaintance of her family, she'd never met him growing up—she'd never even heard of him—so for her to be told years ago that since she had no remaining family members left, she'd have to move in with him due to her parents' wishes was baffling.

She'd been a bit too preoccupied mourning to realise there was anything off about the situation.

“They won't kill their own kind,” he tried to assure her, even going as far as to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Marinette pushed it off without a second thought. “They're never going to accept me.”

It wasn't as though anyone else did, though. For as she could remember, she'd grown up in a world where there was a clear divide between most of the population and the newcomers that had appeared twenty years ago due to genetics. There was a lot of myths floating around about what had happened—and how it had been resolved—but none had ever been fully confirmed.

She'd heard snippets from her parents, but not enough to know everything.

“We have someone who'll guide you,” he announced, the news something that she hadn't heard before. “Someone sympathetic to our side over there, to watch over you.”

The only entrance to Tongsaom was hidden from the rest of the world by being located deep in the forest near their headquarters. The security included an alarm system that alerted anyone if the portal was being activated—which wasn't often, considering only one with the right blood could trigger the magic that allowed the rift to the other world to appear in the first place—along with cameras that recorded all the time, capturing anyone that came through and strangers that walked close to the site.

She narrowed her eyes. “How did you convince one of them to be my babysitter?”

“Because they want to keep the peace as much we do.”

That was such a ridiculous statement that she couldn't help but laugh.

The world hadn't been put in the terrible position when groups came through from the other world. A deal had been placed, one that wasn't recorded in textbooks for students to learn, one that had allowed the foreigners to run free as long as they abided the rules of their society.

It meant that years on, popular icons were either the very ones that came through, the children of two, or even the result of copulating with their race.

It was so strange to think of them as a different species, especially when there was nothing monstrous about them, not like fiction liked to depict. Instead of gruesome features, they were all considered far more beautiful than humans, a trait that had helped to make them successful when they passed over to Earth—or to be more precise, France, as it was the only place a portal opened up.

The fact that they shared a language had been astounding news.

Once her boss had decided something, there wasn't much that she could do to dissuade him. She knew that—there was no denying that, ever—but she still raised her head stubbornly and looked into his cold blue-coloured eyes as she proclaimed, “I am not fae.”

“No.” There had never been affection in his expression when he looked at her, not even after raising her for five years. “But you're not human either.”

Her hand clenched into a fist at her side. “That's—that's not true.”

The household she was brought to live in wasn't a cult, unlike what she'd started to believe when she became suspicious to their actions.

At fifteen, Marinette had been brought inside, and as she was too busy grieving, she hadn't seen the calculative glances that were sent her way, or the coldness that their words held when they were addressing her. After a few months of living there, she'd finally snapped and demanded to know what the problem was.

She just didn't realise that it was her origins.

“You joined this organisation to help,” he reminded her. “This is something only you can do, Marinette. Don't let us down now.”

There was no question that she'd join them. She hated what she was—growing up had been painful with all the stares her way, and the special treatment that she'd received at school made her feel uncomfortable. She'd been too young to understand why they were treating her that way, and when she started to try and cover up her heritage, trying to appear fully human, it made her feel nauseated to see the media coverage for any fae celebrity.

She didn't want to be like that.

The only problem was that due to age and education, she mostly sorted his files and listened out for the work phone when he was in another room. It wasn't a job that needed a lot of qualifications; it was just secrets that she had to keep, if she ever peeked inside the files while he wasn't looking.

“I'm your only half.”

Even though her father had been human, everyone ignored that side to her. They claimed that it didn't count, that it had paled in comparison to her mother's genes, and she was sure many didn't see any worth in the other part of her.

The smile that spread across her lips wasn't genuine. “Who's to say that my blood will even work? No half would leave here to go to Tongsaom.”

It was no secret that fae were treated like royalty on Earth. When they'd come through to France, revealing that they could speak French fluently since it seemed the country that they'd come from was their own counterpart to it, there had been an uproar where the rest of the world had wanted a say in what happened to the newcomers.

Due to the language complications, most had stayed in France until they pursued their careers elsewhere once their language studies had paid off. From what they were told, fae learned at the same rate as they did, and everything about their bodies were the same; it was just their appearances that were altered.

But that was enough of a difference for some, apparently.

Marinette's mother had revealed to her that that hadn't been the case on her home world. Beauty didn't matter much in the long run when everyone had the same shine to their hair, or smiles that only complimented their features—on Tongsaom, it was a place where personality always mattered more than looks.

That definitely wasn't the case for Earth.

There'd been a few horror stories of half-fae children being kidnapped and sold to the highest bidders, but they were proved to be purely myths. All fae that had remained on Earth had had to register with the government, gaining identification like anyone else, and were checked on monthly to make sure that they were okay. It extended to their children, even half-fae ones, and it was her most hated time.

“If it doesn't, then you have nothing to lose.”

There wasn't any room to argue. She was given instructions to pack a bag to take with her, not to bring along electronics since it was possible that they wouldn't work in their world (regardless of the fact that she wouldn't be able to contact Earth without signal).

Tongsaom was a mystery. It was considered a mythical world to children, a fairytale that was embellished and sold since the reveal that it existed at all, a place that no one without fae heritage would be able to go.

Her mother had told her stories about it, making it sound so similar to Earth that she could hardly believe it, but that was all they knew. The fae that had come through originally were given one chance to go back to Tongsaom before they were exiled, which meant that because no one had returned from travelling through the portal, no pictures of the other realm existed.

There were paintings, of course. Fae had gladly told others about their world, creating and selling books that were embellished with stretching the truth, and the influx of fae-related films that had come out were immensely popular.

They were generally about two star-crossed lovers falling in love, but they tended to be described as world-crossed instead, putting emphasise on the difference in their genetics.

It was barely _anything_.

Her footsteps felt heavy as she walked through the forest. Her boss had told her to meet him at their arranged time, meaning she had to navigate through the bushes by herself, trying not to get lost. There were times where she genuinely thought that he might have a shred of affection for her, but as soon as the hat slipped, his gaze had turned cold, just like the others that were in the organisation.

She wondered whether her skin looked paler than usual.

There was no one for her to say good-bye to, not really. Her family members were all deceased, and the ones that she'd been living with for five years were hardly considered friends. There was no pet that she'd miss, or a significant other that she'd mourn over parting with.

It was just her.

The closest thing she had to a father figure was cold, jaded, and hated everything to do with the fae that had come into their world all those years ago. For him to be one of the ones to guard the portal seemed fitting, especially with how intimidating he could be due to his height, and she knew that his distaste for the attempted integration of both worlds was the reason that he'd never look at her warmly.

He stood out against the trees; the pale skin and blond-coloured hair, that almost looked white from how light it was, was drawing attention away from the brown and green that surrounded them.

Although she'd seen pictures of it, she'd never stood in front of the portal before.

It was just a large patch of stone had been flattened out to resemble a wide circle with markings across it that were charmed with magic, making it so they wouldn't fade from age or the weather. It didn't look like anything special, nothing more than a large stepping stone that wouldn't be looked at nice, and there definitely wasn't an intimidating feeling in the air like fictional stories liked to describe.

“Our contact will meet you on the other side,” her boss said as his greeting, smoothing out the creases of his trousers. “No harm will come to you unless you misbehave—follow along with their rules for a while.”

She pursed her lips. “And what makes you think I'll be able to come back at all?”

None of the original fae that had fled into France had returned once they'd come back through the portal, and the exiled ones had never dared to want to return. The only action that the portal had seen for years—for two decades—was that of a few visits to sort out the details to ensure that no danger would come to either worlds.

It wasn't as though humans could go through it, or even summon it, but she supposed that Tongsaom had feared that their own people would be turned against them. A ridiculous thought, really, but there she was, essentially becoming a spy.

She wasn't too sure that she could be classed as that.

“You will,” he assured her, not even looking in her direction as he brushed off any fallen leaves that were covering the marking. She didn't know whether that was needed for the portal to appear, or if he was just avoiding looking at her. “I wouldn't send you there without the assurance that we can get you back—you'll need to return before your next monthly check, after all.”

The words made her stomach twist uncomfortably. “And what about my classes?”

“Family emergency,” he replied. “You've been excused. There may be a bit of a stir from your disappearance, but they've been warned beforehand. Your face won't be plastered all over the news, unless you're tardy.”

It was the worst kind of situation. The first murder had occurred five years ago, and the target had been her mother. Her father had been killed alongside her, and the only reason Marinette hadn't been present was due to her detention, meaning she was late home that evening.

She wouldn't forget the blood on the floor.

In theory, summoning the portal wasn't hard. She just had to let a few droplets of her blood fall into the middle of the stone; then, apparently, the carvings would light up as the portal appeared, and all she had to do was walk through it and she'd be in Tongsaom.

She gripped onto the strap of her bag harder.

Alongside her parents, a fae had been killed each year, and it finally been proven that the murderer wasn't human when they'd been caught on camera the previous year. There were theories, of course, that they were using a costume to fake the appearance of being a fae, but that had been proven wrong after some time.

There were messages left alongside the corpses, announcing them to be traitors to their kind, but none of the fingerprints had ever been identified.

The only problem with the theory that it was a world-hopping fae committing the murders was that there wasn't any proof that they'd come through the only portal that was known.

Marinette knew that if she didn't make it back within her designated time limit, no one would be able to come through and get her.

“I don't like this,” she settled with saying as she stepped up onto the stone, walking towards the centre, where she assumed that she had to bleed. “I'm not even trained for _anything_. I don't know self-defence.”

“You're a smart girl, Marinette,” he pointed out. “I'm sure you'll figure something out.”

The look she gave him could only be described as loathing.

Kneeling down, Marinette took her bag out, reaching inside to one of the pockets in there, retrieving a pocketknife that she'd had the foresight to bring, not acknowledging the look of disapproval that her boss was bound to have been giving her. The idea of biting her thumb until blood appeared wasn't a pleasant one, so she decided to make do by gently cutting into her arm, making sure to miss any of the dangerous spots.

She stared down at the floor as the droplets of red descended, splattering down onto the stone.

When seconds passed and nothing had happened, a smug smile grew on her lips, and she wiped the small amount of blood that she'd gotten on the knife onto her jeans.

Her expression crumbled when the area around her became brighter. The portal appeared in seconds in front of her, hovering a few inches off the ground, bright and shimmer around the edges, the inside white and completely blank of any landscape. There was no telling where she'd be stepping out into, completely different to the stories that explained it to be like a door, where someone could see through.

She hated that she'd wanted some of them to be telling the truth, no matter how different all the information was.

“Fuck,” was what came from her when she realised she really had to go through with it.

Turning to the side proved that there was no awe or wonder in his expression. He was standing beside the edge of the stone, his expression cold with harsh lines around his frowning mouth, but she'd never expected him to be happy about the differences of their worlds.

Maybe that was why he was perfect for his job—he hated the unknown.

“This is good-bye, then,” she quipped, slipping her backpack back on as she stared at the whiteness in front of her. It was large, almost twice her height and definitely wide enough for her to step into—it was just the thought of stepping onto nothing that had her horrified.

Rather than saying good-bye, his parting words were, “Your hat.”

She couldn't resist scowling. “Really?”

“You need to blend in,” he said, voice dull. “Give it to me.”

“I'm sure they wear hats over there,” Marinette muttered. “Come on, seriously? I—”

He looked at her sharply. “Stop being childish.”

It infuriated her that he was right.

Not hiding the loathing in her expression once more, Marinette reached up and slowly took off her knitted hat, tossing it to his feet, rather than into his open hand. She was aware that she was being petty, but being without her hat was something that she hated—all throughout school where she'd had to take it off, she'd been miserable due to her hair not covering everything that she wanted it to.

Without the hat pulled down, the top of her ears poked out through her dark-coloured hair. It would only be hidden if she had curly hair, but that was a lot of effort to do each day, and wind would've moved it, allowing others to see—

“Tuck your hair behind your ears.”

She bristled. “You can already see the tops!”

There was a bit of a stalemate, but she didn't give into his demand. The top of her ears were pointed, a bit larger than the average humans, and it was a dominant gene that couldn't be washed out by her father's genes, much like the features she'd gotten from her mother.

Sometimes, it seemed that she'd only inherited blue eyes from her father's family.

“You have a month, Marinette,” he reminded her, standing a metre or so way. “And then, you'll be back here and continuing on with your life.”

It wasn't the best good-bye message.

“Try not to stab anyone.” And if she didn't know any better, it would've sounded like a joke.

Her eyes flickered to the endless whiteness inside the portal. “Good-bye, Gabriel.”

When it became clear that he wasn't going to answer, she took in a deep breath, her hands starting to shake from the nerves. Saying that it was daunting was an understatement. Marinette wasn't trained for being a spy; she was studying cooking, leaning more towards desserts and following in her father's footsteps.

All she was trained in was Gabriel telling her about the portal, how the government checked on all fae citizens, and what she was supposed to be looking for.

It was a lot to put on her shoulders when everyone considered her to be a kid.

Stepping through the portal was disorientating. Even though it was a few inches off the ground, it didn't feel like it when she put one leg through, before the other followed. Blackness filled her vision, sight lost in a matter of seconds, and she couldn't control her body and react in the panicked fashion to match how she was feeling.

It only lasted a little while, but the breath that she exhaled felt shaky.

And then, she became aware that she was slumped on the floor, knees against stone and the coldness was touching her skin through the rips on her jeans.

She blinked rapidly, trying to get her body to adjust to the sudden change. She was so sure that she'd been standing up, and yet, she was crumpled on the floor, little bits of dirt embedded in her palms when she turned them over to check whether she'd been injured on her journey.

Her stomach twisted violently.

There was green all around her, large trees that matched the forest that she'd been in minutes ago, and the bushes looked so alike that it made her mouth grow uncomfortably dry as she stood up on shaky legs. There was no damage, no twinge of pain on her knees despite the fall that she didn't remember, and she was startled when she caught sight of a figure in front of her.

“Hello,” an elderly man greeted her, the winkles in his skin becoming prominent as he smiled kindly at her, walking closer. “You must be Marinette, yes?”

There wasn't any choice in her response.

The nerves and events had caught up to her, and she quickly turned her head to the side as she heaved, the pitiful contents of her stomach wetly hitting the floor. It was over as quickly as it had happened—the burn in her throat was anything but comforting, her eyes felt wet from the experience, and she felt even more revolted with herself than normal.

A handkerchief came into view, offered by a weathered hand.

Without speaking, she cautiously accepted it, holding it to her mouth for a few seconds before wiping when she'd determined that she wasn't going to be sick again.

“I'm Fu,” he introduced himself, eyes almost seeming to close as he smiled widely at her. “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“...Hi,” she started lamely. “I—I'm Marinette.”

-x-

A large percent of things they'd been told were _lies_.

Once she'd recovered, Fu had escorted her to his nearby home. It was a cottage on the outskirts of the forest, but there were other homes down the streets, making it appear normal. There wasn't anything otherworldly about her surroundings; the sky was coloured normally, there was only one sun—then again, only one book had claimed it had two—and the electricity powering the homes meant that there was nothing special about them.

She didn't know whether to feel disappointed or not.

Fu explained that she'd need to stay hidden for a few days, enough to make her comfortable, until he revealed her identity to the world. While Gabriel was in charge of keeping track of their portal, Fu did the same in Tongsaom, acting as a sort of gatekeeper and being the greeter if anyone came through.

Which wasn't often. Fu's eyes crinkled from his smile when he admitted that the only one to use the portal in the past decade had been him, as he was the one that had acted as a representative and hashed out the terms to stop any drama happening between the two worlds.

“I don't understand,” Marinette bluntly said when he offered her a few basic books to read over.

“That's why you're here first,” he softly revealed. The first night, she'd been too nervous to sleep and had ended up listening to him coughing, the unhealthy sound happening every half an hour or so, showing his age. “You're the first to ever come home; it would be best if you can make a good impression, rather than spouting the lies you've been taught.”

The world wasn't called Tongsaom at all.

She'd stared down at the words, a confused sound escaping her lips. “I—why is this so different?”

“We're very secretive,” was the answer she received.

While the names of appliances were the same—a relief, as she didn't have to fumble and imitate being a kettle when she wanted to ask permission to use one—there were some things that were different. She'd been taught that Tongsaom was the name of the world, but that wasn't the case at all.

Kyuon was the name of their planet, but it wasn't used in conversation often. It took a little convincing for her to really believe that it was Earth in another reality, but it was the photographs from space that made her believe it, although it was still reluctantly.

The planet was the same, though. There wasn't much magic left, Fu revealed, and the portal had been developed by their ancestors centuries ago, but not used once they'd found that world-hopping hadn't done their society any good. It was supposed to be an ancient secret that wouldn't be found again, but twenty years ago, a young woman had found out the details of the ritual and had managed to have enough magic in her veins to make it appear, taking along a handful of companions along with her.

It was more than she'd ever known.

“There's always been hope that some would return, even after the dramatic proclamation of their exile, but it's never happened,” Fu admitted sadly as he stirred his mug with a spoon that had a handle that was too long. He was strange in a few ways, but none of them were negative. “You'll be considered a miracle, you know.”

She couldn't stop her eyes drifting to his pointed ears, knowing that she'd see a lot more in person. In her life, she'd only seen her mother's, while all the others had been through videos and pictures.

It frustrated her beyond belief when she found out that hospitals weren't willing to do a surgery to make her ears appear more normal. She'd expected that there might be one, one that may be ridiculous expensive, but she'd been prepared to save up and work towards it—only to be rejected not only by the doctor she asked, but Gabriel, too.

“I'm only here for a month,” she pointed out on her second day, taking a break from reading when the information just wasn't being absorbed.

The countries of Kyuon were the same shape as her own, but they had different names. France had become Yeonyn—meaning the citizens living there were Yeun—and Paris was Tongsaom.

“Why have we been taught that the planet's called Tongsaom?” she demanded again, a little resentful that her own mother had told her that titbit of information.

Fu's laughter was starting to become a familiar sound. “It was on the whim of the princess, I believe. The others followed along with it because they found it amusing.”

She stilled. “Princess?”

There had never been any mention of royalty—well, not coming through the portal, but there was a lot of that in fiction, particularly the popular world-crossed films.

When he saw the bewildered look on her face, he questioned, “Has that not been explained either?”

“No, it has not,” she replied, reaching up to her head in the instinctual way she'd been doing for years, only for her hands to just meet her hair, not the hat she'd been expecting to adjust.

Her hand fell limply back onto her lap as Fu clarified, “It's a nickname more than anything, I'm afraid. While there might still be actual royal blood in some, it is not considered important any more, not when our government runs the country.”

Fu did his best to explain everything to her. While everyone in the world was considered beautiful when compared to humans—and other worlds they'd visited in the past, as recorded down by ancient paintings, but there was a large chance that they were exaggerated—that didn't mean that some weren't more beautiful than others.

Jobs were essentially the same, as was the workings of the rest of the world, and there had been wars and battles all throughout history, much like in her own. Fu insisted that if she knew a little bit about her history, then she'd be able to make a good impression, especially as she'd be the first of a new generation to return.

It made her feel queasy.

“Why did they leave?” she asked softly when none of the books had touched that subject.

The events had been written as a tragedy; that two dozen young adults had followed after their friend and fled their realm. Fu told her that the princess—who was definitely not royalty, but was a popular celebrity instead—hadn't had her identity recorded down, but it was common knowledge that she was involved due to the press coverage.

Fu was the one that was nominated as a gatekeeper due to the knowledge of his ancestors left in books for him.

After a few months had passed, where multiple threats had been exchanged between each world with Fu acting as Kyuon's representative, only six had returned while the others names were recorded down for history, as they were sentenced to exile for abandoning their beliefs.

She didn't know how many there were since children were born, but she knew it had to be more than sixteen, even after the murders of the past years.

“There's always been mixed answers to that,” Fu confessed, a sigh of relief escaping as he sat down in a comfortable-looking armchair. “Some wanted freedom, according to them, and others wanted to explore. Another claimed they were drunk, but that was debunked, sadly. That was always my favourite one.”

If there was an ancient ritual on her world, she was sure that someone would've used it if they managed to stumble across it.

“Why are you helping us?” Marinette had to ask. “All the texts say that travelling to other worlds is always a mistake, and it's clear that the ones that stayed away are hated.”

His smile didn't reach his eyes. “When have invasions ever been described as a good idea, Marinette? I'm sure your fiction is the same as ours—the newcomers are always feared, held at an arms length, and more often than not considered dangerous.”

“But that's—”

“Not fiction for us,” he gently reminded her. “Our ancestors visited many different worlds before, and none ended peacefully. We lost a great many brave men through history due to research.”

She pursed her lips.

When it became clear that she wasn't going to reply, Fu added on, “It's a matter of pride now, I think. We're more advanced, even if we've lost our magic now. Travelling to another world to try and find a cure to an illness isn't the answer, not with the heartbreak and tragedy that comes with it.”

“At home, on Earth, I mean,” she started, feeling incredibly weird for having to specify her home. “Fae are worshipped. Some fear them, of course, but everyone's—everyone's so enamoured with their looks that they're accepted.”

Fu raised his greying eyebrows. “You sound like you don't class yourself as fae.”

Marinette stiffened.

The matter of her race wasn't something that she wanted to get into; if everyone else had been so quick to dub her as only one, despite her mixed genes, then why wouldn't Fu do the same?

When it became clear that she wasn't going to answer that, Fu hummed. “The worshipping's happened before, of course. There was even a case where a planet believes us to be gods; it's one of the best horrifying recorded, considering our ancestors were gifted with live sacrifices.”

She pulled a face at that. “No one's done that, thankfully.”

It was on the fifth day that she brought up the topic of leaving. The information she'd sucked up had been a lot; she'd stayed away from the television per Fu's suggestion, not wrapping herself up in idle gossip and the news that would only confuse her.

If Gabriel trusted Fu enough to look after her, she had no reason to argue about it. Fu had been more than welcoming, too; the guest room had plush pillows, the food that he cooked was wonderful, and it was incredibly obvious that he enjoyed her company, especially when they were just sat on the sofa together, watching a film that he'd claimed wouldn't be too hard for her to understand.

Much like on her world, there was a lot of world-hopping films, but the main difference was that all of them ended in disaster. While the ones she'd grown up on were filled with world-crossed lovers, the ones that Fu told her about had war and disaster, along with terrible endings that warned anyone against trying to copy the last tragedy.

Who still really wasn't a princess—no, it turned out that the role that had caused her acting career to skyrocket with popularity had been one with her as a princess, so it was a fond nickname more than anything.

“You're right,” Fu said with a sigh, closing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “As much as I'd like you to stay here with me, you are here for a reason.”

She frowned at that. “And how am I supposed to find a murderer here? I can't just go to your government and say someone's managed to make another portal without any proof—no one's even been able to _find_ it.”

“Don't worry about it too much,” he replied, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. It almost caused him to lean too far forward. “I've told Gabriel that this request of his is ridiculous, but he's never been one to listen well.”

That wasn't reassuring at all. “Then, why am I even here?” she asked, tone coming out far too whiny for her liking. “I just—I have a life back home.”

“Do you?” he questioned, eyes flickering to where she'd rearranged her hair to cover her ears. “From what you've told me, you're under the assumption that no one would return here.”

“Not willingly,” she said with a shrug. “I didn't really get much of a choice, did I? Besides, Gabriel's word is practically law back at home, he—”

Fu interrupted with, “He may not be looking out for your best interests, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself while you're here.”

She looked at him dubiously. “Enjoy myself?” Marinette echoed flatly. “I don't even have any money with me. I was given, like, half an hour to pack my shit, and for some reason, I assumed a pocketknife would be more important than my wallet.”

“Language,” he scolded her without any heat, but she still grimaced at the reprimand. When had the last time been where someone had scolded her for swearing? “I don't mind sharing my money with you, Marinette. I assume you'll be allowed to stay with me for the duration of your trip—well, unless they decide to put you under some kind of protection, but that won't happen unless they go public with your return.”

There didn't seem to be any logic to the trip, not really. It was no secret that she was the only fae that Gabriel had access to—along with the other members of staff that he lived with, working security through all hours with their salaries funded by the government—but that didn't explain his want for her to _go_.

No one else had been there to convince her, but then again, Gabriel was the one in charge, and he usually got what he wanted (but that was usually something technology-related). There was little to no chance that she'd be able to find the mysterious murder; she hadn't been gifted a video file showing the footage that had been found at one of the scenes, the fingerprints that couldn't be identified, or even a photograph of the person's face.

She was empty-handed and she absolutely hated it.

It really felt like she'd been tricked for some reason.

“It's not really a return when I've never stepped foot here before,” she grumbled, resting her chin in her open palm. “I—I can't just treat this like a holiday, Fu. I don't want to be here.”

Fu didn't have an answer to that, but she didn't expect him to. He was already being kind enough to let her stay with him, allowing her safe passage through, and even readily taking care of her despite his old age. It seemed unbelievable that he was the only security that was needed for guarding the portal.

“Fu,” she called to get his attention. “Doesn't anyone ever—ever want to go through the portal?”

“Sure,” he replied, nodding his head. “Until they realise that they'll be exiled and lose their entire family, their identity, and be thrust into the unknown without anyone to help them. There's been a few that wander out there, but I have an alarm that tells me when they're close.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “And you're able to talk them out of it?”

“Of course.” Fu's smile didn't reach his eyes. “We haven't had someone come back in over twenty years, Marinette. While you should be exiled due to the connection to your parents, I can assure you, they'll be willing to help you settle down here—only if you're not too vocal of your distaste for this world.”

It just seemed ridiculously complicated. Even though they had countless horror stories of their past trips, all those centuries ago, shouldn't Earth seem like a haven to them? It made her uncomfortable back home, yes, but she assumed that it wouldn't be viewed too badly.

“I don't understand,” she spoke up, trying to portray her honesty. “What was so bad about Earth that caused all that—that drama? It says that the ones that gave in and came back were only gone for six months.”

“Well,” he started, wrinkles becoming clearer as his eyebrows furrowed. “How would you feel if some well-known faces suddenly left not just your country, but your world with a letter that said they were moving on for better things? There has been talk of making the rituals illegal, but that never went through when no one could find any proof of how to cast them in the first place.”

Her expression dropped. “I guess that would cause a lot of drama.”

“An understatement,” he assured her. “It was close to pandemonium, I assure you. Authorities were being contacted constantly with families trying to determine whether their children had disappeared along with them, since they'd taken a little too long to make their way home from school—it didn't matter to them that it was only adults that had been identified in the beginning.”

She hadn't even been born when the invasion—though no one other than the ones that hated fae called it that—had happened, and most of the details were kept out of the history books. She didn't know whether there was mass panic, whether the government were read to imprison the newcomers, or even what the news reports had been like. All that had been erased as the internet advanced, and she knew from Gabriel's contact, ones that she'd overheard sneakily, that anything like that that was uploaded was immediately deleted.

It had to have been a lot of effort.

“Yeonyn is very patriotic,” Fu informed her. “It would be wise to keep your distaste words to yourself—talk of other worlds is practically taboo. The returned all signed agreements not to reveal much, and I assume they're going to do the same with you.”

She snorted. “What are they going to do? Sue me?”

“Perhaps.” Fu shrugged, and it was such a juvenile thing to see him do. “I don't know what will happen, but I'm just trying to look out for your welfare.”

That made her feel a little guilty. While she hated parts of herself, the ones that set her apart from her peers during school and caused people to look at her wide-eyed, Fu had no shame for what he was. She had to come to terms with that, to not look at another like her with contempt, wondering how they couldn't hate despise that others only looked up to them due to their genetics—

But that wasn't the case where she was.

They didn't know any better. They were brought up with anti-world-hopping media, raised to dislike the idea of abandoning their planet, even with the knowledge that their ancestors had been capable of such a thing, and had no reason to feel uncomfortable with how they looked.

It still felt weird to be without her hat. She regretted not packing another along with her clothes.

As many things were alike with their worlds—it was a theory that the world that had been asked for was one the closest to Kyuon in technology—it made her wonder whether she could've brought her phone along or not. Sure, she knew that she wouldn't have been able to message Gabriel through it, but potentially buying another card to fit into the device to make it work didn't sound too far-fetched.

“I'll go with you tomorrow,” Fu announced, snapping her out of her thoughts. “I'm sure I won't be missed for a few hours.”

The smile she gave him reached her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, and she truly meant it. He didn't need to be so nice, but he hadn't done anything to offend her the whole five days they'd been together. “I'm really glad it was you that agreed to help.”

He grinned. “It's not like Gabriel would've been able to talk to anyone else.”

-x-

Marinette wanted to vomit.

The officials that she had to meet were a lot more than she'd originally thought—it wasn't one or two, but instead twenty or more, all clad in formal-looking clothing as they sat around a large table, all staring at her from where she'd awkwardly sat down on a lone seat in front of them.

Fu had been asked to stand outside after he'd explained that she'd come through that day, confused and looking for answers. The fact that he was willingly to lie for her meant a lot. There was no denying that she would've been a nervous wreck if she had no idea about the realm she was in prior his tutoring, especially as she was supposed to try and convince them to let her stay.

Somehow, she did just that. Marinette lied and said that she got the information from her mother before she was murdered, but they prompted her to give her mother's name.

“Sabine,” she said, shifting on her seat awkwardly. “I don't know her surname.”

It was a mistake and she knew it. Fu had already told her that surnames weren't used on Kyuon, and that they'd already had records of those that had gone missing and stayed, therefore being exiled due to their insistence of not returning.

It was strange to think of her mother as a rebel of some sort.

Regretfully, they informed her that her mother's family had already passed away when they brought up the subject of who she'd be staying with it—it turned out that she didn't need to worry too much about them banishing her again, mostly due to them trying to keep the usage of the portal to a minimum, she supposed.

After telling them about her life back at home, where she tried not to show her resentment for not being there any longer, it was decided that she'd stay with one of the member's daughter, as she was attending a university in Tongsaom with an escort to go to and from the campus each morning.

It would act as security in a way; for Marinette to attend the daughter's classes, stay in their home to have eyes kept on her, and for her to day to be monitored without calling too much attention to her.

She couldn't find it in herself to reject them, not when they were being so forceful. When she brought up the topic of staying with Fu, one of the members had scoffed, claiming he was already too busy with being a gatekeeper that he couldn't possibly keep an eye on her, too.

She felt offended on Fu's behalf for that.

The only question that was difficult to answer was when they asked why she used the portal at all.

“I—” Marinette started, pausing as she reached up to touch her head. The hat was gone, of course, and her face grew hot as she quickly ran her fingers through her hair, making sure it was over her ears, before letting it drop down to her side. “I don't have any family left, so I... I just wanted answers.”

It wasn't a complete lie, even if she truly doubted Gabriel's reason for sending her in the first place. There had to be something in it for him; it was ridiculous for him to believe that she'd get any answers in the first place without any proof.

With their word that she'd receive identification in a few days, Marinette felt dazed as she was ushered outside, the member who'd offered to house her coming to stand by her side.

Andre was tall, had a no-nonsense attitude, and was more than happy to brag about his daughter on the way outside. Marinette was given a few minutes to say her farewells to Fu, to which Fu gave her a piece of paper with his number and address on it, before she was ushered outside to a large vehicle that could almost be described as a limousine.

It was overwhelming, but she didn't know whether Andre had picked up on that or just didn't want to talk to her during their journey.

He owned a large hotel, she learned. It was large, imposing, and even though the streets and signs looked similar to the ones in her world, the shops were all different. They seemed to be for the same general things, however, though the names weren't the same.

Supermarkets, cafés, opticians, and all the other things she'd expected to see. The billboards and advertisements were for perfume, make-up to enhance features—proving that beauty still mattered, no matter how beautiful the race was as a whole—and for everything else that seemed normal to her.

It was a little surreal. Kyuon—not Tongsaom, Tongsaom was only a _city—_ was always described as a magical world, one where everything was so different, but that wasn't the case at all. There weren't castles and beautiful architecture that couldn't be found in her own world, nor was everything working due to magic, rather than electricity.

Sure, a lot of landmarks were different, but most were similar. From the trees, plants, and flowers that decorated the scenery, to the sky and clouds that were overhead. Even transportation, the _languages_ (other than the name for them), and how money worked. Other than her knowledge of the history of the world, knowing all the wars and reasons for them in the first place, she had a pretty good grasp on what was happening.

Hell, even the music sounded similar, even though the songs were all new to her. The beats were generic, recognisable, and all the popular instruments were echoed at her home.

The top level of the hotel wasn't available to guests; rather, it acted as the home to Andre's family, and Marinette was escorted to her new bedroom. It was large, far bigger than the one she had at Gabriel's, and she sat awkwardly on the edge of the massive bed, feeling small in such an empty room.

She kept her bag packed.

The knife still seemed silly, and she was a little concerned that they hadn't checked her for weapons. Then again, perhaps they never expected their first returnee from Earth to come with weapons, ready to act as a terrorist—

Not that she was ever planning on that.

It was some hours later that she was introduced to Chloé.

She was tall with golden-coloured hair that fell to the middle of her back, pointed ears poking through the sides due to it being straight, much like Marinette's own, and the scowl on her face wasn't easy to ignore.

“What?” Chloé questioned, but it came out as a hiss. “You—you can't be _serious_. I already have a fucking driver because you're so damn protective—”

Clearly, she hadn't been properly informed of Marinette's presence there.

“No, honey,” Andre soothed, his voice much softer and more affectionate than Marinette had heard all day. He'd seemed almost cold at the meeting. “She's not there to babysit you; actually, you'll be the one looking after her. That's why she'll be attending all your lessons with you.”

That didn't do much to calm her. “Why the fuck do you think I'll agree to that?”

“Well,” he started quietly, but still audible enough that Marinette could hear him from where she was awkwardly standing a few metres away. “This is top secret information, okay, honey? You can't tell anyone else this, not even your friends.”

She scoffed. “Whatever.”

“She's from _Earth_.”

Marinette didn't know how to feel at that moment. It wasn't nice to be talked about, and the wide-eyed look that Chloé gave her definitely made her uncomfortable. Marinette couldn't even smile politely when the two of them started to whisper, too quiet to be heard any more, but she knew that it couldn't be anything good.

Being gawked at was her most hated thing.

Andre left some minutes after that—giving his daughter a brief hug before he went through the doors, claiming he had business to do—and Chloé turned towards her with a wide smile.

Marinette just wanted to go back into her designated bedroom and curl up into a ball. Alas, instead of that, she looked at the other girl in suspicion, manage to ask, “What?”

“You _have_ to tell me about your home,” Chloé immediately demanded, walking forward and latching herself onto Marinette's arm, making it so she couldn't move away without being too rude. “Does it really have acid rain that forces you to live in little huts?”

She spluttered, “I—what?”

“Are your people really so ugly that not even their mothers can love them?”

The questions continued like that for a bit. It seemed that Chloé had heard a few things that were either twisted or just incorrect, but she still asked questions about all of them—even if pants would set on fire if lies were told, which was so strange that Marinette laughed for the first time with her.

But Chloé wasn't asking about the bad things, not really. She wasn't calling all humans barbarians, asking about the violent way they lived, or even the reason that Marinette escaped (which seemed to be the official story, one that she wasn't going to argue with).

Chloé turned out to be twenty, just like her, and although her words seemed harsh at times, especially with the swears, she wasn't too bad.

“Why do you want to know all this?” Marinette asked when she'd just finished explaining another idiom. “Aren't you—you're supposed to hate humans, aren't you?”

Chloé pushed her long hair over her shoulder. “And aren't you supposed to hate us?”

“No.” She didn't—she _couldn't—_ it was just the way she was treated at home that she despised. Sure, seeing their ears and beauty made her feel uncomfortable, but she couldn't hold it against them, not even after she was faced with seeing countless new people that one day after she'd left Fu. “There's maybe one percent of the population that despise you, but that's about it.”

Chloé hummed, a long and drawn out noise. “It's just weird to think about.”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“That you're... you know, human.”

It was what she'd always wanted. To only be seen for that side of her, but now that she actually had someone acknowledging her for that in a foreign world, it made her feel unsettled.

“You're supposed to be some violent bitch, but you don't even come up to my shoulder,” Chloé continued on, her gaze thoughtful. “We've really been taught lies, haven't we?”

They'd only been in each other's company for a few hours. “We are, too,” Marinette felt the need to say, the words tasting sour on her tongue. “About—about you, I mean.”

Of all the responses she expected to get, she didn't think Chloé would come out with, “My mother went to Earth.”

As she didn't know how to respond to that—they clearly weren't close enough to have a heart-to-heart—Marinette's habit of injecting humour where it wasn't needed kicked in. “Mine did, too,” she blurted. “I—fuck, sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Chloé's laughter sounded honest, at least, and there was an unattractive snort towards the end. The laughter just kept coming, filling the silence of the room, and Marinette put her head in her hands, embarrassed of the reaction that she was getting.

When she'd recovered, Chloé reached up to wipe at one of her eyes as she admitted, “She wasn't supposed to, but she did tell me some things about it.”

Much like Marinette's own mother, then. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to know what she liked so much about it,” Chloé replied, sounding determined as she sat upright, putting her clenched hands on her lap. “I've—she was never that happy, and sometimes when she spoke about her adventures there, she—”

And as soon as it had came, Chloé's expression hardened, closing herself off. She pursed her lips as she stood out and promptly left the room without a look in Marinette's direction.

It left her sat awkwardly in the living room, staring at the suddenly empty chair.

“Fuck,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

-x-

There was no sign of Chloé's frostiness when Marinette was called for dinner. It wasn't completely awkward, but she did keep quiet unless a question was directed her way. The table was entirely too large, with just her, Chloé, and Andre sitting down with a large distance between each of them, and Marinette was mystified when staff walked in to put their plates down and top up their drinks.

It was a completely different life than she was used to.

Andre had the foresight to ask Chloé to drop off some of her books into Marinette's room, in hopes that she wouldn't be too disconnected in class. Chloé did do just that, but she didn't look in Marinette's direction and immediately left the room, leaving Marinette to stare as the door closed shut with a loud noise.

She blinked rapidly to try and keep her eyes dry.

It wasn't like living with Fu. There wasn't anyone that wanted to talk her through everything, to gently guide her on her way, and instead she was left to herself, staring up t the ceiling above and wondering what she was doing with her life.

It wasn't like an education for less than a month would do anything for her. Marinette wasn't qualified to enter the university in the first place, let alone for the subjects that looked intimidating just from the textbooks, and it was only due to Andre's suggestion that she was able to attend at all.

They were under the impression that she was staying for the foreseeable future; none had asked whether she'd return to her own home, and she just had to hope that Fu wouldn't get in trouble for her disappearance when the time came.

It still baffled her that no one else tried to leave, though. How long did the portals last? Surely, since they'd been used centuries ago, they'd still be active somewhere in the world, even though the information to craft one had been found in Tongsaom about a few hundred years.

The rushed packing had resulted in her not having pyjamas. Fu had been kind enough to lend her some of his, and even though the trousers made her ankles show due to her being taller than him, the kind gesture had been really nice. He'd insisted that she packed them along with the rest of her belongings in the worst case scenario of her not returning with him.

They were soft.

Marinette curled up in the large bed, idly wondering how they were planning to wake her up for classes. There was no alarm clock, she had no cell phone to even get a glimpse of the time, and the only reason she crawled into bed at all was because she was utterly bored of just staring at the scenery of the room.

It was dark when she was startled awake.

There was someone in the bed with her.

That hadn't been her initial thought, of course not, but when something brushed her leg, she'd jerked away in surprise, making a noise of protest from someone trying to disturb her. Then, in an instant, she'd opened her eyes and backed away, almost falling off the bed in the process as she made out a shape in the bed beside her.

As much as she remembered Fu's advice to be friendly, to try and get on their good sides, Marinette reacted instinctively by pushing her arms out, shoving whatever was in the bed with her away as far as they could.

It was definitely a person from the weight. The curtains weren't completely closed, but there wasn't enough light to see everything that was going on.

As the person grumbled, shifting the duvet and effectively ignoring her, Marinette scrambled to find the lamp on the bedside table that she _knew_ was there, but she managed to almost push the lampshade off of it while trying to find the switch.

“What the fuck?” were the words out of her mouth as she blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust from the sudden change in lighting.

There was no denying that someone was in bed with her. She could see the back of their head—their blond hair—sticking out of the duvet, while everything else was hidden as they tried to sleep, continuing to make disapproving noises from her reaction.

She—she hadn't gone to the wrong room, she knew that. Her bag had been left in it when she went to dinner earlier, and she'd only been shown her own bedroom, none of the others on the brief tour of the top floor.

“Hey,” she called, repeating herself after a few seconds and raising her voice. “Hey!”

“Let me sleep, Chloé,” they grumbled, and the low voice was distinctively male.

Not really knowing what to do with that response, Marinette tugged on the duvet, pulling the majority of it over to her so it would pool onto her lap. “This isn't Chloé's room, dude.”

“What?” The words were slurred, sleepiness clear in his tone as he slowly sat up, pushing the blond strands out of his face.

“Get out of my bed,” she snapped, frustration with how the whole day had gone seeping through. “You're—just get _out_.”

As he stretched his arms above his head, taking his time to yawn and then wipe at his eyes, clearly not showing any concern that he was in a stranger's bed, despite her proclamations, Marinette hated the way that her first thought was to check his ears.

They were pointed at the top, of course—everyone's were, including hers.

“What—who are you?” he questioned, turning his sleepy-eyed stare towards her.

It became clear that it wasn't just sleepiness that was making him so slow. Marinette gaped as she quickly realised that he was _drunk_ and trying to sleep it off in her bed, baffled how everything could go so wrong on her first night at Andre's.

Rather than dealing with that—she'd had to deal with Gabriel's drunk friends before, and that had never been a pleasant experience—Marinette got out of the bed, snatching up her backpack and making sure all of her belongings were inside as she darted out of the door. She knew the way to the living room, so that was where she sat down on the couch, clutching a pillow to her chest with her bag down on the floor in front of her.

She buried her face in the pillow with a sigh.

When she was woken up a few hours later, it was to someone gently touching her shoulder.

Marinette flailed a little from the panic, having not expected to be woken up that way, and she hit her foot on the coffee table because of it. With a hiss of pain, she looked up with narrowed eyes, ready to tell whoever it was off—forgetting where she was—only to be met with a timid smile from a male standing in front of her.

The blond hair clued her in on who it was, even if it was wet from the shower.

“You,” she said flatly.

He winced, hand raised and touching the nape of his neck. “I guess I deserve that.”

Marinette stared, unsure of what the point of their interaction was at all. The only reason she wasn't outright being rude towards him was that she was a guest, and she didn't know whether that would result in her being kicked out. A piece of paper with Fu's address was helpful, but without any money or a way to contact him, she was kind of doomed.

“I thought you were a dream, honestly,” he continued on, sounding a lot more coherent and not slurring his words from drunkenness. “I'm sorry for that, really. Chloé always lets me use that room so I don't have to go home drunk, and—and I guess it never occurred to me that someone else might have that offer, too.”

That meant that he didn't live there, then. “I got given the room yesterday,” she replied lamely, not knowing what else to say to that.

“Sorry again,” he repeated with a grimace. “Not my best first impression.”

There wasn't much room for them to talk after that. While he stood there awkwardly, shuffling a bit and clearly showing that he was uncomfortable, Marinette only had time to sit up properly before Chloé strolled into the room, raising her eyebrows at seeing the two of them together.

“Adrien,” she called, and it had to have been the male's name. “When did you get here?”

The top of his ears turned pink as he answered, “Last night, I—I didn't know the room was already in use.”

There was a cackle from Chloé. “Oh, you fucking idiot,” she proclaimed, happily closing the distance and giving him a hug in greeting. “I'm glad you're here, though. This is my distant cousin, Narin. So distant I didn't even know she existed, can you believe it?”

If that was the cover story they were going with to keep her identity a secret, she had to correct her with, “It's Marinette.”

Chloé waved a hand dismissively. “She's a bit special, you know? Everyone's so worried about her, so she's going to go to _all_ my classes with me, isn't that great?”

Marinette bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from snapping. She knew that they were going to do something with her identity, but she'd assumed that that would apply to Andre's daughter, too, which meant she was already confused about why Chloé had been told the truth in the first place.

“What?” Adrien questioned, looking between the two of them, surely trying to see some sort of family resemblance.

Whereas Chloé was tall, Marinette was short, her hair was dark compared to the golden strands of Chloé's, and everything from the curve of their noses, shape of their eyes, even to their eyelids was different. There was absolutely no resemblance between them at all.

“Her parents were really protective, so she never left the house to go to school or _anything_.” The story was becoming more and more exaggerated, and it seemed Chloé was having fun with it from the way her voice was becoming louder with her exclamations. “She wasn't allowed to watch the news either, the poor thing. It's like I have to teach her to live.”

Adrien made a noise of surprise. “Really?”

Frustrated from how they were talking about her, Marinette interrupted them coldly with, “ _She's_ still here.”

They were saved from interacting further when a member of staff came into the room, telling them that breakfast would be ready in half an hour. Marinette took the chance to excuse herself, saying that she was going back to her room and would like it if no one came in without knocking first, before she reluctantly came back to the dining room, freshly showered in clothing that actually fit her.

It didn't help that she'd only brought three outfits along with her.

Along with Andre and Chloé, Adrien was present for the breakfast. Most of the conversation revolved around him, which was a relief, and Marinette pushed her food around the plate, not quite knowing what to expect from her day.

Andre pulled her aside afterwards, passing her an identification card with her name on it—and a picture she definitely hadn't posed for—and a cell phone that had his, Chloé's, and his daughter's boydguard's number input into it.

The first thing she did was put Fu's information in, sending him a message that she was doing okay. It worried her a bit that, maybe, he was too old to know how to text, or preferred to call due to the generation that he'd grown up in, but those worries were brushed aside for the time being when Marinette heard her name being called.

A car with tainted windows was waiting with the door open for her to step into. She didn't have a bag other than the one with all her belongings in it, meaning she was empty-handed with only her identification card in her pocket with her cell phone, and definitely no notepads or even stationary to take down notes.

Chloé and Adrien were chattering away when she sat down in the car, her posture stiff and clearly uncomfortable.

It really wasn't how she thought she'd be spending her days, and it definitely wasn't what Gabriel had had in mind.

Instead of gathering intelligence—no matter how difficult that would've been—Marinette had to tag along a few steps behind Chloé when they entered the school, her eyes darting around to try and take in the differences. The university didn't look all that different to the ones at her home, but then again, a lot of things were similar.

Adrien disappeared to his own classes after a while, butchering her name when he said good-bye.

“Try not to embarrass me,” Chloé said, turning to face her as she rearranged her hair, making sure it looked okay. “You don't have to listen to anyone except me, okay?”

Marinette didn't even try to argue with that. How was this their best plan for where she could go? Sure, it was safer for her arrival not to be announced to everyone, as she was sure that a lot of the population hated humans because of their upbringing, but there had to be something better for her to do with her days than trail after Chloé all day.

Andre was kind enough to let her stay with him, she was starting to suspect that his ulterior motive had been just to tell his daughter where she was from—after all, Chloé had revealed that her mother had disappeared to years, all those years ago.

That meant that their mothers might've been friends.

It was strange to think about how she would've grown up if she wasn't on Earth. Well, no, that wasn't quite right—if it wasn't for her father, she wouldn't have been born. Even if her mother's features were more distinctive, there was still a part of her that was human.

She smoothed her hair over her ears before they went into the first classroom.

It wasn't clear whether Chloé was popular or not. She was greeted by almost everyone, yes, but she didn't reply to anyone that she didn't deem important, it seemed.

And when they asked Chloé about her, the worst sort of answers came out.

“Oh, don't mind her, she was raised on a farm,” was the first.

Marinette had just stared at the professor, trying to make sense of the curriculum. It was nothing like the food-orientated courses that she'd been studying, and after an hour had past, she hadn't been able to make any notes or know what was even _happening_.

Chloé took a lot of joy in replying to someone with, “Foreign exchange student.”

Then, Marinette became a pen-pal that was terrible at socialising, so she was bound to stay to herself, along with being an experiment by the government to test an experimental drug on children growing up.

“That's why she's so small,” Chloé lamented, wiping a tear that wasn't really there from her eyes.

When someone pointed out that Marinette wasn't abnormally small, they were promptly ignored.

It was grating. Marinette didn't understand the gossip, felt overwhelmed from the amount of people that were looking at her curiously, and she was frustrated that she couldn't even focus on the work to distract herself. Instead, she was stuck staring into space, wishing that she was anywhere but where she was, wishing that they'd allowed her to stay with Fu.

Thinking of Fu made her check her phone, and she was overjoyed when she realised that he'd replied. He wished her luck, reminding her that she could contact him at any time, and was allowed to visit whenever she wanted, and it was enough to bring a smile to her lips.

The smile was promptly gone when they had to change classes again.

When it came time for her to leave the campus and return to the car, Marinette let out a sigh of relief. It was her seventh day in the alternate realm, but it was definitely the most awkward-feeling day that she'd experienced.

“So,” Chloé started, turning her attention her way when the silence between them became too awkward. “How was your first day?”

Marinette stopped herself from scowling, choosing to stare out the window at the scenery instead. “I didn't understand anything,” she replied bluntly. “The curriculum is nothing like what I was studying—not that anyone bothered to ask.”

“Why? Was it—” Chloé cut herself off, and Marinette could see in the reflection how she shot a look towards the glass that separated them from the driver. “Is it really different back in—in you know where?”

It was the nicest that Chloé had been to her all day, but that was only because she wanted information. “I guess.” She shrugged. “A lot of stuff is similar, but I was studying cooking, not whatever you're focusing on.”

Chloé made a thoughtful noise. “And what else is different?”

What wasn't? “The names of things, for one,” Marinette answered, trying to be as vague as possible for if the driver was listening in. “Some of it is really similar that it's jarring. Like music, actually. The popular songs sound pretty much alike, but the lyrics are completely different. It's like I'm in a fever dream.”

Of all the things Chloé could've said, what came out was, “Sucks for you.”

Marinette went back to staring out the window, trying not to let her irritation show.

-x-

It continued like that for three more days. When they were in public, Chloé barely talked to her directly, instead making up ridiculous stories about Marinette's presence, and they were all so dumb that Marinette had trouble believing that anyone thought they were truthful. Most of them were a little insulting towards her, painting Chloé in a good light for taking care of her, but she didn't really have the will to say anything.

But when they were alone, Chloé prodded her about her life at home, trying to learn more. It was kind of like Chloé had a different personality when she met anyone outside of the top floor of the hotel, though it did extend to some of the staff. The ones that took care of her, however, knew her truly, and she didn't bother trying to make herself into looking like a good person.

It was a little overwhelming.

Chloé asked about music, films, even make-up brands and fashion to see whether their styles were different. Marinette still felt baffled as she tried to explain that everything was so similar that it was only the ears that reminded her that she wasn't at home some days when she was daydreaming, to which Chloé just furrowed her eyebrows at.

“You do have ears like us, right?”

She pursed her lips. “Yes.”

Sat next to each other on a sofa in the living room, Chloé reached out to try and move Marinette's hair out of the way.

She reacted on instinct, slapping the hand away with a little too much force. Marinette's eyes widened when she realised what she'd done, sucking in a sharp breath as Chloé stared incredulously at her hand.

“Sorry,” she blurted, but it sounded insincere.

Growing up, countless class-mates had done the same thing, trying to confirm her identity after the rumours had spread. While hats had been banned in the classroom, she'd resorted to keeping her hair falling around her shoulders, hoping that it would be thick enough to cover her ears completely before classes ended.

Chloé just looked at her strangely as her hand fell down onto her thigh. “You're really weird, you know that, right?”

But in Marinette's eyes, everyone else was strange.

“Why would you even want to come _here_?”

That was a pretty loaded question. “Maybe because it's portrayed as a utopia back where I'm from?” she replied, skirting around the actual truth. “My parents are dead. I didn't really have anything to lose if I really was classed as exiled from birth.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” Chloé muttered, sounding put out. “Emilie made sure that everyone agreed not to give out specific details.”

“Emilie?” she questioned, turning her head to face Chloé with curiosity clear on her expression.

Chloé looked at her blankly. “You know, the one that opened the portal in the first place?”

It was the first time she was actually hearing what her name was. “Fu just called her a princess all the time, and the books I read didn't include names.”

Chloé didn't bother replying to the first one. “Of course not.” She snorted, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. “It was practically considered treason. They were given one chance to return and not have their names known—threatened with the shame of their families and all that. It was bullshit, really.”

It hadn't really occurred to her that it would be considered shameful to the rest of the family, regardless of the lack of surnames. “And your mother was one of the ones that came back?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed dully. There wasn't any enthusiasm in her voice. “Decided to come back early and fucking settle down and have me.”

“Early?” Marinette enquired. “The books say—”

Chloé scoffed and interrupted her with, “They say a lot of shit. Aren't you taught not to trust the media where you're from? I bet it's just as fucking dumb as it is here.”

There was a lot of animosity there. It was clear that talking about her mother made Chloé mad, and from the lack of seeing her around the hotel, Marinette had to guess that she'd passed away. There was a few pictures in the living room, yes, but that was about it.

Marinette hadn't had the thought to bring along a picture of her parents on her journey.

“Nothing's really clear about here,” she admitted. “We've been taught that the planet's called Tongsaom for as long as I can remember—imagine my surprise that that's not the case, and it's definitely not a world of magic and fantasy.”

Chloé hummed. “As reliable as calling yours a place of war and violence?”

From what she'd read, she had to need to say, “I think we're pretty even on that front, honestly.”

The following day turned out to be one where Chloé didn't have any classes. Marinette had dressed in a freshly cleaned outfit—she'd pulled aside a member of staff and asked where she could wash her clothes, then was baffled as they were taken out of her hands—and came down for breakfast, only to be surprised that only Andre.

“She's not giving you a hard time, is she?” he asked.

There was no mistaking that he'd volunteered to house her just for his daughter. It had become clear that Chloé missed her mother and longed to know about the world she'd disappeared to, just to try and connect with her in some way. Chloé had a little notebook that she wrote in when Marinette clarified some times. It had appeared on their third day together, no longer hidden in her room as she scribbled down Marinette's responses, whether they were about idioms or the different names for foods.

Everything was hard to keep track of. While she still hadn't been given any equipment to attempt to follow along with classes, she was grateful for the cell phone. Fu was a slow at replying, but he managed to send her at least two messages a lot, updating her on what was happening.

Which wasn't much, surprisingly. Fu hadn't gone through to give Gabriel the news that she'd been taken elsewhere for her protection, with her identity fabricated, and it seemed that he was going to keep it that way.

“She's not,” Marinette admitted, her appetite still little due to the nerves. “It's just—I don't know what she wants from me.”

Andre put down the cell phone that he'd been looking at, his gaze instead meeting hers for the first time since their polite greeting smiles that they gave each other. “I assume she wants to know about your life.”

“Well, yes.” That much was obvious. “I don't really—I don't understand what she can gain from it, really. It seems like she only gets upset whenever I tell her things.”

“Indulge her, if you can.”

She grimace. “Andre—”

“You need money, do you not?” he interrupted sternly. “Play along with her whims and I will endorse you for your time.”

It didn't sit right with her, but she really didn't have anything than a forged identification card and a borrowed phone to her name. If anything, in the situation that she was in, Chloé should've been the one receiving money for taking care of her in the first place. Sure, she didn't understand the classes and was constantly bored, but she had protection and wasn't being used in some unsavoury way.

Her mouth tasted sour as she accepted.

It was past noon when Chloé emerged from her bedroom. Her pyjamas were rumpled, hair a mess, and she didn't seem to care as she slumped down on the sofa in the living room, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Marinette,” she called.

Marinette tried to ignore how it made her feel like a pet being called. “Yes?”

“Tell me about your classes,” Chloé requested, and it almost sounded like it wasn't a demand. With her messy hair draped over the arm of the sofa, her head resting back against the luxurious cushions, the carefree image definitely hadn't been her first impression of Chloé. “You enjoy them, don't you?”

“I mean, yes?” Marinette shrugged, feeling a little bit pressured to give a more insightful answer. “I always watched my parents bake as I was growing up, so I helped out a lot. It seemed pretty natural for me to want to follow their footsteps—kind of like honouring their memory, I guess.”

Chloé's brow furrowed. “Honour—what? Isn't the the type of shit you say when they're already dead?”

She stiffened. “I—yeah. I-I just—”

Waving a hand dismissively, Chloé added on, “Not that it really matters. It's nice that they didn't push you into anything—can't say the same for me, sadly.”

Considering that she didn't even know what Chloé was studying after attending classes for three days, Marinette replied, “What would you like to do, then?”

“Not sure,” Chloé admitted, closing her eyes. “Just not this.”

She didn't know that feeling. Marinette's parents had died before she'd started to consider colleges, or even how she was going to spend her future. Sure, she had dreams as a child, but most of them had been squashed when she realised the attention that she'd receive. She wanted to stay in the background, not upfront and plastered on televisions as most of her mother's friends were—

And that fact was bewildering. She hadn't known that they'd been friends. Her mother had kept to herself, not going out often, and Marinette had never even suspected that the other fae would all know each other, not really. To know that she would've known Chloé's mother and Emilie, the one that had opened the portal in the first place, was something that she didn't know how to feel about.

Quietly, Marinette found herself asking, “Did your—did your mother ever mention mine?”

Chloé didn't open her eyes. “You actually have to give me a name for me to say. I don't exactly have the exiled list memorised.”

“Sabine,” she confessed softly.

Repeating the name to herself a few times, Chloé eventually shook her head. “I'll have to check her diary to know for sure. It's really likely, though. No one really spoke about the exiles ones growing up.”

“No presentations about how they betrayed your kind, then?”

“Only essays,” Chloé replied with a laugh. “Besides, we were always told that the worst probably happened to them. It's fucking shocking that they lived long enough to raise you for so long.”

Until the murder, at least, but that wasn't something she wanted to talk about. As far as Chloé was concerned, along with Andre and the other members, they'd passed away from either natural causes or a car crash—they hadn't exactly asked her to specify. They hadn't cared about anyone but her mother, though.

Chloé decided to show her her favourite films. She said that she'd seen them enough times that she was willing to explain anything that Marinette didn't understand, but it ended up with her narrating everything that was wrong with them, complaining about how the plot didn't make sense in some areas. It was pretty amusing, especially when a member of staff poked their head in to see what the commotion was about, and Marinette found herself warming up the her as the time passed.

It was a lot better than when she was just sat awkwardly in the same lessons.

Without others there, Chloé was a lot more friendly. It was nice to banter with her, actually, and her flippant responses were humorous without intending them to be.

Adrien appeared when the film was nearing the end.

Unlike his last appearance at the hotel, he wasn't drunk. He still looked tired as he yawned, sloppily taking his shoes off as he called out Chloé's name and crossed the room, taking off his jacket and putting it on a passing chair. He looked entirely comfortable in the home that wasn't his, and Marinette felt awkward when he politely smiled and waved at her, too.

“Hey,” Chloé greeted, reaching out for the remote and pausing the film. “I thought you were busy today?”

He pulled a face as he sat down in a lone armchair. “Other model got sick, so everything got cancelled. Fuck going back to classes, though.”

She didn't really know much about him, but it was clear that he was one of Chloé's closest friends (if the permission to use the guest room didn't give that away, then them meeting up just to talk at their university campus did).

“Oh, right,” Chloé mused, her lips curling into a smile. “Farm girl over here has no idea who you are. Why don't you introduce yourself?”

He blinked. “But I already did? She knows I'm Adrien.”

She raised a hand to muffle her laughter at how perplexed he looked.

Chloé just snorted. “Not that, idiot. She literally doesn't know what you do. Come explain your life story to my distant cousin.”

“So very distant,” he said as his reply, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair and putting his chin on his open palm. “Marinette, right?”

When it became clear that he was waiting for confirmation—and there was an awkward silence between the three of them, as the television was still paused—Marinette lamely replied, “Yeah.”

“Did you really only have horses as friends growing up?”

It wasn't even the weirdest question that she'd had directed at her, or the strangest thing that Chloé had said out of nowhere. Her voice wobbled from trying not to laugh as she replied, “No, I liked cows a lot more.”

“Really?” The curiosity that could be heard wasn't forced.

“Yeah,” Chloé chimed in. “Horses are dicks. Don't you know that, Adrien?”

Bewildered, his gaze flickered between the two of them. “No? I never went to those horse riding lessons. It still sounds fucking terrifying to me.”

The laughter that left her was probably the loudest from that day. “You—” Marinette wheezed out, covering her mouth with her hand as her eyes were closed while her body shook with her laughter. It was just—it was all so _ridiculous_. “Aren't you supposed to be telling me about you?”

“I'd rather hear about your life, honestly,” he replied, his grin wide enough to reveal dimples on his cheeks. “I'm not even allowed a pet, while you probably classed all of those animals as yours, right? Wait, I hope that's not offensive. I'm not really to insult your friends.”

She chortled.

“Okay, that's enough of that,” Chloé interrupted, her own laughter audible. “Adrien's a model. You've probably seen a few of his advertisements already.”

Marinette grimaced. “Everything's kind of a blur to me.”

“Is it that different to the countryside?” he enquired, repositioning himself so his legs were curled up on the chair with him. It was a pose that she'd only think about recreating if she felt comfortable and safe. “There has to be some advertisements there, surely. I mean, even if it's just on a drink, right?”

She furrowed her brow. “You're on bottle labels?”

“For one brand currently, yeah,” Adrien confirmed without hesitation. “...That's not weird to you, is it?”

It wasn't really. That happened sometimes where she was from, but she hadn't visited a single store since her world-hopping holiday had begun, and she really didn't know what to expect outside of the few glimpses she'd seen on television. Then again, they could've been dramatised versions for the films that they were in—

“I haven't been in any stores.” And when she heard Chloé's intake of breath, she hastily added on, “Here, I mean. In Tongsaom.”

He squinted. “Where are you from again?”

Chloé interjected with, “Well, that's fix that, then. Don't think I haven't noticed that you're starting to wear the same clothes.”

It seemed that once Chloé set her mind to something, it had to happen. No amount of Marinette hastily saying that she didn't even have money, or that she wasn't ready to go out to see stores, could convince her otherwise. Within thirty minutes, Chloé's driver had pulled up outside and Marinette found herself in the back of the vehicle that was steadily becoming familiar to her.

As with the last time she'd been in a car with Chloé and Adrien, Marinette was quiet throughout. The two friends were busy talking to each other, which gave her time to stare out of the windows, taking in the little details.

Really, she didn't see what the point of her being there was. She wasn't some professional spy, nor had she had the right education to even act as a detective; all Marinette knew how to do was bake away her feelings and ignore the stares that were sent her way.

She'd lived the past five years with Gabriel's odd friends sending her cold looks whenever they came around. It made sense when she realised how much they detested fae, no matter how much the rest of the world favoured them, but she still couldn't help but feel that Gabriel had managed to get custody of her because of his ulterior motives.

Clearly, it was the situation she was in at that moment, but she had no idea why.

To her horror, there was a bit of a commotion when they were spotted approaching their first store. A lot of phones were taken out, the flashes of cameras almost blinding, and with a panicked glance at her companions, Marinette realised that Adrien was smiling and interacting with the newcomers without any hesitation.

It was normal for him, then.

Chloé turned to her with raised eyebrows. “Model, remember?”

Considering that pictures were being taken of her just because she was walking alongside him, it really hadn't hit her how popular he was supposed to be. For a world where everyone had pleasing features, it made it hard for her to understand how some could shoot to popularity, especially when they were a model. What had set him apart from everyone else that was trying to feature on advertisements?

When Marinette was jostled by someone hitting her shoulder on their way past, Chloé steadied her with a hand before quickly taking it away, smoothing down her clothes immediately.

She still didn't know what to think of Chloé's switch in personality when they weren't alone.

“I really don't have any money,” Marinette insisted when they finally made it into the first store. It was high-end, with security at the front that stopped the gaggle of fans that were staring at Adrien from walking inside, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to afford any pieces of clothing within it.

Chloé waved a hand dismissively. “You can make it up to me by cooking.”

She stared. “I'm only good at desserts.”

“Make them, then,” she replied without missing a beat, raising a hand to flag down an assistant. “I'm having a party next week. You cater for that and I'll consider it even, okay?”

There wasn't any room for discussion.

Adrien came to her side when Chloé was combing through a railing of sweaters. “You don't look very happy.”

“I can't pay for any of this,” she reiterated, hating the feeling. “She's—I'm already staying there. I don't need something like this.”

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “There's no point trying to argue with her. She's pretty excited that you're staying with her, honestly.”

Only because of what she could tell her in private—and, surely, that was all that it would ever be. “These clothes are far too expensive.”

“She's not very good with money,” he admitted, fond gaze trained on his friend as she started to pass hangers over to the assistant. “Humour her, okay? This is kind of her way of showing she cares.”

“She's known me, like, four days.”

He shook his head. “And have you seen how many others are in her family photographs at home?”

There wasn't many, but Chloé was more than aware that they weren't really related. “It's a really faraway relation. So very distant.”

“It doesn't seem to matter.”

There wasn't any point in fighting him. Marinette decided to switch the topic and bluntly ask, “Why are you so popular, anyway?”

Turning to look at her with surprise clear across his expression, Adrien questioned right back, “You mean you don't know yet?”

“Raised with farm animals, remember?” Her lips twitched as she tried not to laugh at the outright lie. “I don't know anything.”

He blinked. “Right.”

“So?” she prodded, curious about his reaction.

Adrien averted his gaze, no longer looking her directly in the eyes as he raised a hand to clutch the nape of his neck. “I'm—well, I'm half-human.”

-x-

It wasn't until the next day that Marinette was able to bring the topic up.

“Adrien's half-human,” Marinette said as her greeting when she sat down for lunch. She'd been warned the night before that weekends were treated much the same as Chloé's days off from university—meaning she lounged around the house for far too long, not being productive. “Were you ever going to mention that?”

Chloé looked up with furrowed brows. “You mean you didn't know already?”

It was the same reaction that he'd given her. “No,” she responded flatly. “It's probably best to assume that I don't know anything—new world, remember? I don't even know the name of your fucking drinks.”

Chloé's gaze flickered down to her glass. “Well, this—”

“It was an example!” She barely resisted throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I just—I've never met anyone else.”

Chloé narrowed her eyes. “Like you, you mean?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, not quite ready to reach out and help herself to food just yet. Instead, she slowly poured herself out a drink. “We're—I mean, my family decided to try and be normal, instead of being rich and famous.”

With a snort, Chloé replied, “Clearly a bad choice, then.”

Her grip tightened on her mug. Marinette told herself that the words had no heat to them; to Chloé, money seemed to be important, and it was something she could easily throw around (as was proven yesterday, when Marinette hadn't been able to talk her out of buying her a whole new wardrobe—it wasn't as though she could say she was planning to sneak back to her world soon).

“Not really,” Marinette answered, staring down into the mug as she stirred the drink with a spoon. “We still got a lot of attention because of my mother. She preferred to work in the back, to avoid customers and stop being from coming in just to gawk at her.”

Chloé wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Makes it sound like a zoo.”

“That's how I always felt at school.”

There was a lull in the conversation. Marinette wasn't seeking comfort, not when the words were truthful and ones that she'd felt for over a decade, and Chloé was clearly uncomfortable with the prospect of discussing feelings (that weren't her own).

“Adrien's pretty open about his heritage,” Chloé revealed, breaking the silence. “There's no information on his father, and it's the world's worst secret that his mother was the one to cause the disaster in the first place—”

That caused her to stiffen. “He's Emilie's son?”

“Yes,” Chloé confirmed with a small smile, the pride she felt for her friend showing in her voice. “Son of a popular actress and the only part-human in our world—makes sense why he's famous, no?”

It made her stomach clench uncomfortably. The only reason she existed was because of his mother—

“Do you think I'd be able to talk to her?” Marinette blurted. “Emilie?”

Chloé's expression fell. “She's dead.”

As with that, all thoughts of asking her about her mother, to know whether they'd truly been friends or if her mother had hopped along for the ride, sick of her own world, disappeared. She hadn't read anywhere about her passing, but then again, she hadn't kept up-to-date with celebrity deaths, not when she barely recognised any of their names.

Her voice came out choked as she could only say, “Oh.”

It was strange to think. The government protected a lot of the other fae in her world; their addresses were kept from the public, any posts that made their way online were swiftly deleted, and they were regularly monitored to make sure they were okay.

Even with her parents owning a bakery, they'd had to have a home elsewhere, rather than living in the apartment above the store. It was insisted on by the members that came to check on them every month, along with security outside that were funded by the government.

She had to wonder whether Adrien was treated that way. He was the son of someone famous, so it was possible that he would've been originally, but for him—for him to be so open about his heritage was almost baffling to her.

Only _one—_ he was the soul half-human on Kyuon, according to the government. Despite the propaganda against humans, the very ones that were used to convince everyone out of pursuing world-hopping, he seemed to be adored. The fans from the shopping centre had proved that, and typing his name into a search engine on her phone proved that, too.

There were some that tried to see him as only human, but they were mostly drowned out. It was strange, baffling, and she didn't know how to feel about it.

It was essentially the treatment that she received back home, but instead of referring to him as primarily another race, the majority accepted him as one of their own.

That was out of the question for her as soon as her ears were gone, which infuriated her.

The next time she saw Adrien, it was on the Sunday. Marinette had spent the night before searching the internet of the phone she'd been given, staying up until her eyes felt irritated. It was because of that that she'd woken up late—with the knowledge that Chloé didn't want to drag her out that day—so she was surprised when she padded into the living room to see Chloé and Adrien sat in pyjamas together, playing video games on the large television.

The main thing she wanted to know was whether he'd kept the pyjamas at Chloé's home, or whether he'd really travelled in them.

“Oh, morning,” he greeted when he caught sight of her dumbfounded expression. “Do you know how to play this?”

It was an innocent question, really. Marinette had liked video games when she was growing up, and it was only in the past few years with Gabriel that she'd fallen out of touch with them; it had been nice playing online without anyone knowing her identity, after all.

“No,” she answered honestly. She wouldn't recognise the game, but the console didn't seem too different to the ones that she was used to.

It still felt like she was living in a weird dream where everything was just a little bit off; whether it was the films, the faces that were featured on adverts, or the topics that were brought up on the news, it took her a few moments to even realise that she wasn't at home any more.

It was her twelfth day on Kyuon, and yet, it still managed to feel like the first.

Adrien gave her his controller after the round was over, beckoning her over to sit beside them. With a quick look to see whether Chloé would be disapproving, Marinette accepted and spent the next few hours with the two of them, steadying learning to beat the two of them (to their horror).

It was fun.

Her cheeks were hurting from smiling, but it was the most carefree she'd felt in a while. There was none of Gabriel's friends breathing down her back, nor any of the snide remarks from her class-mates were they brushed off her achievements by saying that it had to be because of her genetics—

The character she was playing on the screen stuttered to a stop, quickly losing, and all she could wonder was whether Adrien faced the same stigma.

It wasn't like she could ask, though, was it? They weren't close—Adrien had stumbled into her bed drunk once, immediately apologising in the morning, and they'd only spent a little time together after that. They were hardly even acquaintances, and she definitely wouldn't be willing to answer questions to anyone like that.

“ _Yes_ ,” Chloé exclaimed in excitement when the game announced that she'd won.

Marinette just smiled and passed the controller back to Adrien, saying that she felt awkward with him just sat there watching.

“You sure?” he questioned, tilting his head a little to the side. “I don't mind teaching you. You're a really quick learner.”

There wasn't anything special about his face; well, not compared to the rest of them. It was unique, yes, as none of them all looked alike, but there wasn't anything unattractive about his features. It was strange to think about, and she hadn't ever been able to imagine it well when she'd grown up thinking Kyuon was a magical utopia, but since being there, it was slowly becoming easier to understand.

Marinette sat back down on the sofa, tucking her legs underneath her as she watched the two of them start to play and bicker between themselves. It was clear that they were close—if the room meant for him hadn't already clued her in on that—and it was something that she'd never really had.

“Are you actually going to class this week?” Chloé questioned.

He snorted. “Maybe, maybe not. I don't have any jobs, if that's what you mean.”

“You can't keep skipping.” And for a moment, Marinette almost thought she was being responsible. “If I can't get away with it, then neither can you. I'll tattle.”

“You know they won't care.” He bumped their shoulders together, not hard enough to knock her over. “As long as I turn up for exams, it doesn't really matter. Favouritism is a scary thing.”

Chloé scowled. “Fucking ridiculous.”

“If you want to be loved, you have to be the nation's orphan.”

Hearing that, Marinette couldn't hold back her choked sound of surprise.

“What?” Adrien queried, turning his head to look at her curiously. “You haven't heard of that either, really?”

Chloé slapped his arm. “She didn't even know who you are, asshole. Not everyone worships your feet.”

“You don't,” he replied, smile not quite reaching his eyes. “It's just strange, that's all.”

“And you need to get your head out of your ass,” she shot back. “I think it's great that my bumpkin cousin doesn't know anything about you.”

With an exaggerated gasp, Adrien put a hand over his chest. “How dare you?”

The bickering continued.

Marinette went back to scrolling on her phone. The title that Adrien had said wasn't a joking one, apparently—typing it in came up with a load of results, and it was a little sickening to realise that it was what the media referred to him as, as they'd called his mother a princess due to her popularity.

It was public knowledge that he didn't have a father their world, that his mother hadn't remarried before she'd passed away, and he'd gone to live with a family friend before he was old enough to live on his own.

When the sofa moved, surprising her, Marinette almost lost her grip on her phone.

“Hey,” Adrien greeted, sitting down beside her with a friendly tone. “Chloé's just gone for a bit to order dinner.”

She blinked. “Okay.”

“So,” he started, extending the vowel. “Are you okay?”

It was clear that he was trying to make conversation, but she wasn't too sure how to feel about that. “I'm fine.”

Befriending him would take too long for her actual questions to be answered. She'd been instructed to keep her actual origins a secret—as Andre had, but he'd let his daughter in on that secret without wasting any time—and she very much doubted that he'd open up to Chloé's distant cousin and tell her everything she wanted to know out of nowhere.

“Okay,” he said with a nod. “What are you actually doing here?”

She squinted. “With Chloé or this room in general?”

Adrien looked a little sheepish as he shrugged and answered, “Both, I guess.”

“I don't have anywhere else to go,” Marinette answered honestly. “I was—I was staying with someone in the countryside, but it was decided that I'd be better off here.”

“Well, you do have more outfits here.”

Putting her phone on her lap, Marinette's grip around it tightened. “I—I was fine with what I had.”

“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly, shaking his head. “I—oh, fuck. I wasn't trying to be rude or anything, I just—”

She couldn't stop herself from retorting, “It came across as rude.”

“Yeah.” As Adrien raised his hand to run through his hair, clutching the nape of his neck in a self-conscious manner, Marinette caught sight of the redness that had appeared on the top of his ears. “I'm really not trying to be a dick. I promise.”

She flatly replied, “This isn't much better than your first impression.”

“I'm never making up for that, am I?” He winced.

“Do you stumble into bed with unconscious strangers often?”

“It was a mistake!” he insisted, the blush also starting to become apparent on his cheeks. “I really didn't know you were there, okay? I—it won't happen again.”

Even though she didn't have high expectations, it was better than nothing. “I'm sorry,” Marinette offered awkwardly, reaching up to fiddle with her hair, idly realising she _still_ didn't have a hat. “I was just teasing you.”

“Oh.” He looked stumped. “ _Oh_.”

“Not very well, apparently,” she mused. “I just—do you want to be friends?”

His brow furrowed. “You want to be my friend?”

“Yes?” There was no denying the question in her voice. “I don't really know anyone else, and everyone's too busy in classes to really talk to me. You're the only one, other than Chloé, that I've even seen here.”

“I—sure,” Adrien stuttered, staring at her with wide eyes. “You really want to be my friend?”

It made her stomach curl uncomfortably. What could make him have such a reaction? It was a normal question, was it not?

“Yes.” She wetted her lips. “If you want to, that is.”

The smile that blossomed on his face reached his eyes. “Sure,” he repeated, much stronger that time. “Does this mean you want my number?”

Her gaze flickered down to the phone on her lap. There was still only a few numbers on it, and the only person that was steadily messaging her was Fu, even though he was rather slow.

“That would be nice,” Marinette admitted.

His grin grew.

-x-

Adrien stayed for dinner, to which Andre couldn't attend, so it was just the three of them, before he went back home. Marinette was surprised when her phone vibrated almost half an hour after he'd disappeared, and she actually felt happy that he'd messaged her at all.

It was a little awkward at first, but they got past the standard questions by the time Marinette had excused herself to her bedroom for the evening. He asked her random things, trying to get to know her and the way she'd previously led her life, and whenever she admitted that she didn't know what he was talking about—whether it was a name of a song, or a place—he always replied a few minutes later with an explanation.

He was patient, it seemed.

Although he wasn't there in the car on the way to university, she did get a text from him on the drive over. Surprised that he was going to continue it at all, Marinette responded and continued to throughout the day, giving her something to do.

Chloé continued to give her the cold shoulder when they were in public, and since Marinette didn't understand anything about the lessons, she was relieved that none of the professors were calling upon her. Whether they were informed that she was just there to follow Chloé around or not, she wasn't sure.

She wasn't really sure what she was doing whatsoever. What was the point?

As Fu had suggested, she tried to treat it as a vacation. It was a stay in a place that she thought she'd hate, but she—she didn't really hate it all that much. Sure, they were prejudice and absolutely hated other worlds, and therefore decided to make a smear campaign against Earth, but that was because of their horrible past experiences. Even if that hadn't happened when the group had travelled to Earth—as they'd been openly accepted, to Marinette's chagrin—they had still been against their citizens running away to another realm.

That was basically what Marinette was doing, wasn't it? There was no chance she was ever going to be able to catch whoever was committing the murders, not even when they happened once a year. The lack of evidence that she'd been shown, and what she had with her, was pitiful.

She got angry when she thought about Gabriel. It was his big plan to have anyone fae-related to go through to Kyuon, but, surely, he had an ulterior motive.

“Cheer up,” Chloé said as they got into the elevator, waiting to go up to the top floor. “You get to look forward to baking at the weekend, remember?”

She looked at her blankly.

Chloé clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You're catering for my party, Marinette. We agreed on this.”

“Oh.” She didn't really remember it. “Okay, I guess.”

“I know you hate my classes, but you don't need to look suicidal all day,” Chloé mused, taking off her shoes and tossing them aside as soon as she'd gotten through her front door. “Aren't you supposed to be in awe about how different everything is?”

Marinette tucked her own shoes tidily away in the corner. “Closest possible world, remember?”

Chloé snorted. “Right.”

It was becoming increasingly easier to talk to Chloé, too. When they were alone, or when Andre or Adrien were there, she was more open and happy, laughter sounding a lot more genuine. She was visibly excited whenever she asked Marinette a question, and even if the answer wasn't what she was expecting, she didn't sulk.

However, when they were in the presence of others, the sharp tongue came across as rude more often than not, and Marinette had heard a few class-mates talking badly of her, all the while knowing that Chloé was able to hear them.

And yet, Chloé didn't show that she'd heard them at all. She calmly continued with her day—not screeching and throwing stuff at them, as they'd clearly expected—and made snide comments in passing, not putting all her energy in tormenting them.

It was a little bewildering.

“Why are you so different when we're alone?” Marinette outright asked when they were eating dinner. As Chloé's blue-coloured eyes, a few shades lighter than her own, fell upon her, Marinette stared down at her plate to avoid eye contact. “I just—when you're in class, you seem like a completely different person. You... I mean, you treat me differently, too.”

When Chloé put her cutlery down, it was audible. “What do you know about me, Marinette?”

She pushed her food around the plate. “Only what you've told me.”

Pushing the chair back and standing up, Chloé bluntly replied, “Let's keep it that way, then.”

They didn't talk for the rest of the night. Marinette stayed in her bedroom, not mentioning what had happened to Adrien, and tried to keep herself occupied by watching videos. It was a little stifling to be contained to the home, but she knew that walking outside by herself would be a bad idea—it would've been a disaster if she got lost.

The first thing Chloé said to her the following morning was, “You can stay with Adrien today.”

Marinette gaped. “I—what?”

“He'll be here soon,” Chloé stated as she put the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. “Have fun and all that. I'll see you later.”

There wasn't any room to question her before she disappeared through the front door. Marinette smoothed out the material of the new cardigan that she'd been bought, slowly working her way through all the new clothes—far more than she could bring back in her backpack, and she still felt bad about the sheer amount of them—and settled down on the sofa to wait.

Adrien hadn't messaged her that morning.

They'd spoken a lot the past day and a bit, but she'd expected at least a text to tell her of the plans that had been made without consulting her.

He arrived half an hour later with messy hair and wrinkles all over his t-shirt. “Hey,” he greeted as he strolled through the front door, keeping his shoes on despite the rule to take them off. “You ready for our exciting day?”

Marinette fiddled with her sleeves. “You don't have to do this.”

“We're not going to my classes, if that's what you're worried about,” Adrien replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I'm bored and I'm sure you probably are, too, so let's do something fun.”

“Shouldn't you be going to class?”

He snorted. “And shouldn't you be happy to _not_ go to class for one day? I know that you don't do anything in them, and you're not even enrolled.”

There wasn't really much room to argue with him. Adrien ushered her out of the front door, holding up his keys and pointing her in the direction of the garage. His car wasn't as ostentatious as the one she rode in the back with Chloé almost daily, but it still intimidating when she had to way of earning money for herself.

The only noise was from the radio playing for a while before Adrien broke it to question, “Anything in particular you want to do?”

There was a few things, but she settled on asking for clarification, “Anything?”

“Well, yeah,” he confirmed with a nod, not taking his eyes off of the road. “I'm kind of driving in circles right now. I don't know what you like.”

“I don't have any money,” she repeated, bringing up the argument that he and Chloé had tossed aside. “But there is someone I'd like to see.”

He turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “Thinking of making use of my celebrity connections?”

The laugh that escaped her was one of disbelief. “ _No_ ,” she insisted, not knowing whether to be hurt that he'd jumped to conclusion so quickly. “It's a little while away, but I—I'd really like to see the man that I was staying with before.”

Adrien only took a few seconds to respond, “You meant he countryside dude?”

She really did laugh at that. “I'm sure he'd love to be called that.”

“Why would you want to see him?” he questioned. “Not that I'm judging you or anything—no, I kind of am. I don't really understand.”

“He really helped me,” Marinette admitted, pulling her sleeve as far over her hand as it would go. “I've been texting him, but it's not really the same. I just want to show him that I'm okay, really.”

For a moment, the only sound came from him drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Okay,” Adrien eventually agreed. “Give me the directions, then.”

It took a while. Instead of having to take public transportation as she had with Fu to get into the city the last time, the drive was quiet, filled only by the sound of Adrien's playlist that he put on after he got fed up with the radio half an hour in. He didn't try to force her into conversation, which was nice, and she was more than happy to just stare out the window and take in her surroundings as time passed.

Him agreeing to take her to Fu's at all was amazing. Marinette thought, for sure, that he'd laugh before choosing something else for them to do, but that wasn't the case at all. He was actually going out of his way and driving for more than a while just because she asked to—

“Why are you doing this?” Marinette blurted, not being able to hold her curiosity any longer.

He kept his eyes on the road as the corner of his lips turned upwards. “Chloé asked me to look after you.”

“Taking me to meet a stranger doesn't sound very safe,” she quipped. “Really, why?”

“Consider me curious.” And when she thought he wasn't going expand any further, he added on, “And I'm still with you, so it's not like you'll get lost. We'll be fine.”

The cottage looked the same as it did before. There was a lack of flowers due to the autumn weather—flowers that she'd never had the same to see—and the green of the forest was damp and as uninviting as the last time. Marinette stared at the trees as Adrien pulled up in the driveway, knowing that the inactive portal was close by.

Did Adrien know that? It was his mother, after all, that had been the one to summon it in the first place. There had to have been a reason that she'd come out so far away from her home, other than wanting to have the cover of trees while she worked.

Adrien was staring at the cottage with a blank expression. The engine was still on and running, his hands on the steering wheel and gripping tightly, and the awkward atmosphere was hard to ignore.

“Adrien?” she called, trying to understand his reaction.

Tearing his eyes away from the cottage, he turned to look at her with his eyebrows pulled down in a harsh angle. “Is this a joke?” he demanded, voice a lot colder than she'd ever heard.

She swallowed. “What?”

A grimace formed on his face as he spat out, “How did you even find this out?”

It was a big difference to the easy-going attitude that she'd seen thus far. Marinette recoiled, taken aback, and stared at him with wide eyes. “I-I stayed with him—”

“Right.” It sounded sarcastic. “You just so happened to stay with such a reclusive man, and then took me here with you. Are you—are you even Chloé's cousin?”

“Why else would I be staying with her?” Marinette replied, but her voice came out a bit strangled. The implications of bringing here hadn't really occurred to her; she hadn't thought that he'd be offended, or even recognise the place, and that was purely her own fault. “I just—if you don't want to see Fu with me, you don't have to.”

He pursed his lips.

“I'm not a fucking reporter or something,” she felt the need to try and explain. “You've—you know that I didn't even know you, right? And all the other things. I'm not making this up.”

The staring made her shift uncomfortably.

“He's in my phone,” she hastily said, taking the device out of her pocket and turning it around to show him the pitiful contents of her contact list. “See? Fu.”

It didn't make him look any happier.

“I didn't think—think about whether you'd recognise the place or not,” Marinette lamely said, reaching up and touching her hair for a moment before she fiddled with her phone, putting it away again. “It didn't cross my mind, but it really wasn't my intention to upset you, really.”

He finally turned the engine off. “You...”

With no idea of what he was about to say, Marinette was sure that her expression was a mixture of dread and regret.

“You know about the portal,” Adrien said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. “You—you know about Fu.”

Keeping secrets was a lot harder than she'd thought it would be. The tiniest of slips happened, and she wasn't good at thinking through all the possibilities of what could happen—she'd hurt Adrien in a matter of hours of being together that day, and then he'd swapped to staring at her as though she was an alien.

Then again, if she was classed as that, then he was, too.

“Fu—he's very open,” she explained quickly, stumbling over her words as she tried to get him to believe it. “I didn't know Emilie was your mother, truly. I just—fuck.”

After looking at her for a few long seconds—in which her heart was nervously pounding—Adrien slowly got out of the car. She scrambled to do the same, almost tripping over the seatbelt in the process, and shut the door with more force than was necessary.

By the time she'd caught up to him, he was already by the front door and pressing the button for the bell. Marinette knew that the sound was loud, volume high enough to be heard throughout the whole house, and she'd barely had time to catch her breath before they could hear the tell-tale sound of a key entering the door.

Fu's face brightened when he saw them. Marinette had hidden whenever visitors had arrived at his doorstep previously, but he always cheered up when someone spoke to him, even if it was in an attempt to sell him something.

“Marinette,” he greeted her first, smile causing his wrinkles to stand out. “And here I was wondering whether you were okay. I see you've managed to convince Adrien to escort you here.”

When they were standing together, she barely came up to Adrien's shoulder. She was able to see the way he clenched his hands into fists beside her as he asked, “You know me?”

“It's a bit hard not to,” Fu replied, eyes almost seeming to close from how wide his smile was. “You've grown up quite well compared to how you looked on my doorstep all those years ago.”

Adrien visibly let out a deep breath. “You do remember me, then.”

“Of course,” Fu confirmed, shuffling aside and holding the door open wider. “Why don't you two come in?”

-x-

Instead of Chloé ignoring her, it was Adrien's turn.

Fu had been more than welcoming to the both of them. He'd kept his questions ambiguous, not hinting that Marinette had gone through the portal at all, and Adrien looked like he was close to crying the whole time that they were there.

It wasn't a long visit. Maybe an hour and a bit, a few cups of tea that Fu offered them, before they were back to their awkward drive. Even with that done, they'd managed to make it back before Chloé.

Adrien hadn't even said good-bye, instead leaving as soon as she'd gotten out of the car.

Marinette chose to hide in her bedroom, distracting herself with the internet, and it was a knock to her door that pulled her away from her thoughts.

Chloé was there, fluffy-looking slippers on her feet and hair pulled into a messy bun—not a look that she'd wear anywhere outside of her own home.

“Hey,” she greeted, not knowing what else to say.

“You pissed me off before,” Chloé bluntly replied, walking past her and entering the room as though she owned it (to be fair, she kind of did). “So, I ignored you. That's what I do.”

It was probably the closest she'd ever get to an apology. “Okay,” Marinette said, sitting on the end of the bed as Chloé sat down on the lone armchair that was by the window.

“Adrien's just as bad,” Chloé continued, lifting one hand up and inspecting her nails. “When he's annoyed, he pushes everyone away for a few days. It's very annoying, and that's coming from me.”

She pursed her lips. “And why are you telling me this?”

“Because he spent the day with you and didn't even come inside.” Chloé shot her an unimpressed look. “What did you even do to piss the both of us off in twenty-four hours? That has to be a talent, I think.”

With a sigh, Marinette leaned back, only keeping herself propped up with her hands. “I—I might've taken him to see Fu.”

“Fu.” Chloé stared at her with an unknown expression. “Fu, as in the gatekeeper Fu?”

She grimaced. “Yeah.”

There was no denying the outrage in Chloé voice as she exclaimed, “Well, no fucking _wonder_! What the fuck—what even made you think it was a good idea?”

“I didn't think, okay?” Marinette answered quietly, wanting to curl up from remembering the wetness of his eyes the whole time. “I just—I wanted to see Fu. Adrien said that we could do anything.”

“You're an idiot.” Chloé sighed.

Chloé wasn't very good at understanding boundaries. She went on to explain that Adrien had gone to see Fu when he was younger, begging to know about his mother when she'd come back, wanting to ask about whether conjuring had had side-effects or not, only to be turned away. Fu hadn't wanted to encourage him choosing to turn him gently away instead.

When she'd taken him there, it was the first time that Fu had allowed him inside his home.

While Chloé didn't want to talk about some topics about herself, she didn't really understand what not to say about her friends. She happily spouted off personal details that Marinette really shouldn't know—especially about Chloé's class-mates that she'd only seen in passing—and the stuff that she learned about Adrien should've come from him, not her.

“I guess,” Chloé said with a shrug when Marinette pointed out that she was saying too much. “It's not like you're going to rat me out, are you? You'll be on everyone's hitlist if it gets out that you're half-human.”

She blinked. “Are you threatening me?”

“Threatening?” Chloé snorted. “I wouldn't call it that. I'm just saying the truth, Marinette.”

“I don't know what to think about you.”

“Don't think, then,” Chloé replied, pushing her hair over her shoulder with flair. “You're probably going to be living here for a few years until you're comfortable. We might as well try and get along.”

It had almost been two weeks into her stay, but she was counting down the days until she could leave. There wasn't much that she could do, after all, since Emilie had passed away, and any of the others that were involved with the portal were out of reach or unlisted. Chloé wasn't very forthcoming with the names involved, and also didn't want Marinette to read her mother's diary—all of which was understandable, but still made her sigh in disappointment.

“Right.” The smile didn't meet her eyes. “Let's try and get along, then.”

Chloé snorted. “Don't just copy my words.”

“Sorry.” The apology was as sincere as her smile. “I'm just—yeah.”

Returning to Chloé's classes were just as boring as before. Chloé kept to herself, not as enthusiastic as she was in private, and Marinette continued to doodle on her notebooks to give herself something to do. Adrien still wasn't talking to, meaning there was no texts from him, and she felt too awkward to reach out to him first.

The highlight was when Chloé was finished with her classes for the week. After they'd returned home, Chloé had suddenly perked up, sitting upright and turning to look at her with a smile.

“I'm having friends over tomorrow.”

Marinette blinked. “Yes?”

“That means you get to cook,” Chloé announced, jumping to her feet and ushering her along after her as they made their way to the kitchen. It was large, immaculately clean from the staff member that had been in there hours before, and Chloé wasted no time in beckoning her towards the fridge and opening the door. “Is this enough for you?”

Honestly, she'd almost forgotten about Chloé's plan. None of her class-mates had mentioned it, and she definitely hadn't seen Chloé talk about it to anyone during the week.

“I don't even know what you want,” she eventually replied. “Or what you have.”

Chloé waved a hand dismissively. “If something's not here, you can just go to the restaurant downstairs. I'll call ahead and tell them to listen to you.”

“What?”

“Do you want any helpers?” Chloé questioned, bringing out her cell phone and illuminating the screen. “Because I can make that happen.”

“No, no,” Marinette hastily rejected her, shaking her head. “I don't know what you want? Or even how many people you'll be having over. The basic, you know?”

Chloé raised her eyebrows. “I really don't care. Do whatever you want, really. I can give the leftovers to the staff and make them love me even more.”

And with that, there wasn't really any room left to argue. After some prompting, Chloé explained that there would only be a few people coming, ones that she didn't see often due to them attending different universities. She didn't get much more information out of her than that, though.

It was nice to bake again. She didn't get to at home with Gabriel often—not when she had a part-time job sorting out his papers for him and listening out for his work phone—and the large kitchen was good to be in. After the first half an hour alone, Chloé had come back inside with her phone, blasting music from it and making the sound seem to echo in the kitchen, and she continued to ask her questions about Earth.

When Marinette started baking again the next morning, as Chloé wrinkled her nose at the thought of anything savoury and wanted to gorge instead, the music and questions started again. It was a lot more enjoyable than she'd thought it would be, but it was a relief that Chloé wasn't annoyed with her any longer.

That didn't apply to Adrien, however.

Chloé's friends turned out to be a red-haired girl by the name of Alya and her tanned boyfriend, Nino. They were curious about her, of course, and Chloé outright demanded for Marinette to sit in the living room with them.

Alya was the one to say first, “I don't see the family resemblance at all.”

They weren't too bad, but they did ask where Adrien was. Chloé snorted and said that he was sulking because she'd offended him the day before—to which Marinette had no idea whether it was a lie or not—and the two of them didn't seem to think anything further of it. Apparently, his sulking was a normal occurrence for them.

They'd all gone to primary school together when they were younger. Nino, with his bright smile and spectacles that he had to keep pushing up, was more than happy to try and tell her embarrassing stories about the others, but Chloé was quick to cut him off.

The plan had been to only have three more people over, but Chloé had made it sound like there'd be countless people attending in the beginning before she'd said a few friends in the kitchen—it might've been Marinette's fault for not believing her there, however.

When the couple left, Chloé just told her to cover all the food that they hadn't touched so she could give them to the staff downstairs.

“They seemed nice,” Marinette mused as she put cling film over another plate. “Not like the other people you know at university.”

Chloé just snorted from where she was leaning against the countertop, watching her work. “That's because most people are dicks, Marinette.”

Her lips curled into a smile. “Good to know that's the case here, too.”

“A lot of people try and befriend me to get to Adrien,” Chloé revealed. “It's been that way since we were kids, really. It's incredibly annoying.”

“Oh.” It made sense, then, why Chloé wanted to be so cold and not as open with her in public. Sure, it wasn't a foolproof plan—Marinette thought it was idiotic, actually—but it wasn't her place to say anything. “I haven't really had a real friend before.”

Chloé furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Marinette started, pausing a little as she reached up to fiddle with her hair, still a bit embarrassed whenever she realised that she wasn't wearing a hat. “The whole, well, fae thing? Since there's so little of us over there, it's considered a status thing to befriend one, you know?”

There was an uncomfortable silence where Chloé was just staring at her with an unknown expression. Marinette swallowed, wondering whether she'd said something wrong; she hadn't exactly been so forthcoming with her feelings, and the silence was making her regret being honest.

“You said us.”

She blinked. “Pardon.”

“Us,” Chloé repeated, perplexed. “You—you classed yourself as fae there.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She'd—that was a slip she'd never really made before, not really. Marinette had always been so adamant to consider herself human, to hide the ears and blend in with the rest of her surroundings, wanting not to be different from anyone else, but that hadn't been the case since she'd started to live with Chloé.

Since seeing the rest of the world—or just the small bit of Yeonyn, mostly the university and Chloé's home—she'd liked that no one had gawked or stared at her when her hair moved with the wind. She'd never fantasied that she'd like the place, especially not when her mother had been exiled, but—

It wasn't so bad, other than the whole human hating part of it. The prejudice that came with world-hopping was understandable considering the whole bad history, but it still left a sour taste in her mouth. She was sure, so very sure, that if the officials hadn't told her to keep it a secret and hidden her away with Andre for her safety, then hatred would've surely been sent her way.

Maybe the parts that couldn't voice their opinions against Adrien's heritage would've been pointed her way.

“I've never done that before,” she admitted quietly, running her fingers through her hair. “It's—I don't know what to say.”

Of all the things she'd expected Chloé to respond, it certainly wasn't, “Your mother fucking a human doesn't make you any less valid, you know.”

She choked on her laughter. “What kind of thing to say is that?”

“That's the extent of my comforting skills,” Chloé defended herself, her voice wobbling from trying to contain her laughter. “I can't tell you the amount of times I've had to say that to Adrien. It's my go-to for whenever he's feeling sad, you know.”

The laughter continued to come out until her face felt hot. When she'd calmed down, letting out a deep breath slowly, Chloé was beaming from the reaction. “You're a pretty good friend,” Marinette pointed out softly. “You're just... I think the best word to say is, well, blunt.”

“Oh, I'm well aware of that.” Chloé snorted. “No point sugar-coating my words, is there?”

“You're so confident.”

Putting her hands on her hips, Chloé replied, “Well, someone has to be, don't they? Besides, you need to hurry up and take the food downstairs.”

“Sure, ma'am.”

Chloé sniffed. “I'd be the best boss you'd ever have.”

“You already are,” Marinette mused. “A lot better than the one I have back home.”

That brought up a new series of questions once she'd returned from taking the dishes downstairs, awkwardly explaining to the staff she'd come across that they were from Chlóé. Chloé seemed fascinated that she had a job at all, especially since she was supposed to be in school, and Marinette had to point out that she worked for her foster father in exchange for her continuing to live there until she could save up enough to move out.

“Weird,” was all Chloé had to say to that.

She shrugged. “It's not like I know anything different.”

“You know what it's like to live in a huge ass hotel now.” Chloé grinned widely. “Much better than your little shack, right?”

It wasn't her trying to be mean. Chloé was blasé about her money, not realising when she was being offensive with what she had, and over the short time they'd spent together, Marinette was starting to understand that part of her.

“True,” she agreed with a small smile. “I doubt I'll be spoiled like this ever again.”

Chloé shrugged. “It's not like we're going to put you to work. We're not rude enough to just throw you out—you're supposed to be family.”

There was a lump forming in her throat. Chloé was just—for all her sharp words, she was pretty caring. The fact that she was reassuring her that she'd have a home for the upcoming future without knowing her actual plans made her feel a bit guilty. “But I'm not.”

“ _Supposed_ to be,” Chloé repeated. “You can go and get a job, if you want. Your identification should work, and I doubt they've left you without a fake background or something.”

“I—” Marinette cut herself off, inhaling sharply. “Thank you, Chloé.”

Chloé's gaze flickered away, as though she was uncomfortable seeing how thankful she really was. “You can repay us by dressing well. No more rags.”

A shaky laugh escaped. “You've already bought me a whole new wardrobe.”

“Yeah, so fucking use it.”

-x-

Adrien spoke to her the following week when she was in Chloé's second class with her. He sent a message asking how she was doing, and Marinette couldn't stop herself from answering by asking him whether he was really done ignoring her or not.

There wasn't a reply until Chloé's lunch period.

Marinette answered her phone on the second ring.

“Hey,” Adrien greeted her, audibly clearing his throat afterwards. “I—I was a dick.”

“Understatement,” she blurted despite her best interests. “I mean, I kind of was, too, by not thinking about you—but I didn't ignore you and purposely avoid you.”

There was a beat of silence. “I wasn't avoiding you.”

“You were supposed to be at Chloé's to see Nino and Alya,” she replied, eyes flickering to the other end of the table where Chloé was sat with two others, slowly eating her lunch. “They were really disappointed you weren't there.”

All he could reply was, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” she answered lamely. “Sorry for bringing you to Fu, but if you going to just shut me out when I've done something wrong, I'm not really equipped to deal with al this angst and avoidance.”

It wasn't a lie. There was limited time until she had to leave, and if she managed to mess up again, it was possible he would've ignored her for half of her remaining time. Building friendships hadn't exactly been on her agenda, then again, her plan for when she'd arrived had shattered in a matter of days.

His voice sounded quiet as he asked, “Are you saying you don't want to be my friend any more?”

“No,” she replied softly before realising how that sounded. “I-I mean, I'd like for you to try and tell me, rather than ignore me, that's all.”

“I'm not really good at that,” Adrien said, tentative. “But... I can try, I guess.”

It was her turn to just say, “Oh.”

“Sorry for interrupting your lunch,” he spoke up, not letting there be an awkward silence between them. Instead, he was talking fast, skipping over some syllables as he tried to pick up the conversation. “I already pretty much know Chloé's schedule off my heart, and I didn't want to call during class in case you were finally starting to enjoy them—”

With a laugh, Marinette assured him, “I still understand nothing.”

“Why are you attending them, then?”

It was a loaded question. “I'm waiting for some of my indentation to be confirmed, so it beats staying at home.”

He made a noise of understanding. “Andre pulled strings for you?”

She really didn't know how much power Andre had at all, but considering that he was on the board of members that she'd been made to stand in front of, he certainly had enough to decide what had happened to her. “It's more of a pity thing, I think. I'm really out of touch.”

“I could take you some places, if you want,” he offered.

Because it had gone so well last time. “Won't that be hard for you?”

“I might be recognised, yeah,” Adrien replied, not sounding like he cared much. “But I go out a lot more than Chloé. She prefers to stay in, other than going shopping sometimes, so I doubt you've gone anywhere other than a few places so far.”

It was a kind offer. “What if I piss you off again?”

“I'm sure that won't happen if I pick the place,” he joked. “I'm still really sorry about that. I'm just—I'm pretty childish when I'm upset.”

There wasn't any room to argue with him there. “I can't deny that.”

When she later told Chloé that Adrien was talking to her again, the wide grin she received made her happy. Andre wasn't there most of the time, but Chloé was nice to spend time with. They bickered once Marinette was comfortable with her, which was rare in itself, and Chloé seemed more excitable whenever Marinette snapped something back, rather than letting her prattle on about whatever topic she'd been on about. The small bit of challenge made her happier, and therefore their talks became more enthusiastic, enough so for their voices to sound loud and almost echo in the large rooms when they were together.

She stopped caring about the impossible task that Gabriel had set for her. Marinette enjoyed her days, choosing instead to go out with Adrien instead of going to the university at times (which made Chloé moan that she'd missed out, although she was a good girl, unlike Adrien), and she was given permission to use the kitchen whenever she wanted.

She made friends with the chef.

When she made too much food, trying to recreate recipes she could remember from home or the ones she found online, she gave the extras to members of staff, slowly introducing herself to them.

With one of the notebooks that had been intended for classes, she jotted down pieces of information that she wanted to take back home. It was the agreed upon rule to follow Emilie's example and not reveal everything about the realm, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to remember it for herself.

After asking Andre for permission, she started adding in folded pages of information that she'd printed off; from recipes, historical landmarks that were completely different to Earth's, and even some of the pictures she'd taken on her phone.

It was her plan to keep it from Gabriel.

There wasn't a reason for him to know. Telling him wouldn't do anything but make him curious; he wouldn't be able to travel through, not even if she bled on the floor and the portal opened, and it was personal to her.

“You're taking a lot of pictures,” Adrien mused when they were waiting in line at an amusement park.

They weren't that different to the ones at home, but she hadn't been since her parents had died.

She turned towards him, taking a picture of the ridiculous hat and oversized sunglasses that he'd bought at the gift-shop in an attempt to disguise himself. “I've never been here before.”

“Not enough cows for your tastes?” he joked.

Her smile was half-hearted. “Something like that.”

He still insisted that he didn't need to attend classes, and that taking her out gave him something to do. Marinette felt bad about the money at first, until he'd rolled his eyes and showed that he had the same attitude as Chloé towards it—neither of them cared how much they spent and seemed to have to understanding of how much they were splurging on at times.

As much as she tried to get the two of them to calm down a little with their purchases, her words didn't get through to them.

“I really don't need the most expensive meal for the _experience_ ,” Marinette insisted, shooting him a look of despair as he looked over the menu of the restaurant that they'd stopped in.

When he'd said that they should go out for lunch and then play video games that day, she'd assumed that he'd meant a diner or café, not the large restaurant where the waiters were dressed better than she ever had.

“It's fine.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Chloé likes the cake for here, so we'll get her some for later.”

“Or we could get her some, leave, and go somewhere more responsible.”

“You're too worried,” Adrien said, putting the menu down and looking at her quizzically. “I've already said it's fine, so what's the problem?”

She tried not to throw her hands up in exasperation. “I'm not used to spending so much money with friends!”

“But you're not spending any,” he pointed out. “It should be fine, right?”

“That's even worse.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don't even have a job here.”

He just grinned. “Your goal in life can be paying me back when you're settled.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I'll be working for decades to make that happen at this rate.”

“Maybe that's my evil plan,” he mused, resting an elbow on the table and putting his chin in his palm. “I have to keep you in my life somehow, right? It sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

After the brief period of him ignoring her, Adrien was back to his cheerful self. There was no mention of the visit to see Fu, but she hadn't expected him to bring it up in the first place. The texts started slowly after the call, and along with spending time together while Chloé was in class, he did come visit and stay for dinner most nights.

Andre didn't make a fuss when he was there. He greeted Adrien as though he was always there, making normal conversation, while Chloé was always overjoyed whenever he visited.

Knocking to her bedroom door woke her up one night.

Marinette fumbled to reach out for the light on the bedside table, almost knocking it over in the process, and she cursed under her breath as she got out of bed.

She was greeted by Adrien sluggishly raising a hand and smiling at her.

It was easy to tell that he was drunk. Adrien didn't waste any time in unsteadily waltzing inside, walking straight towards the bed as he climbed upon it, his dirty shoes still on. His hair was a mess, his clothes were wrinkled, and the mud that he'd brought inside had gotten onto her duvet. Even if she prodded him and told him to leave, she'd have to sleep on the other side, hoping that the dirt hadn't gotten under the covers.

When it became clear that he was intending to sleep there, she just picked up a blanket from the wardrobe and went into the living room. She didn't want to intrude and use another bedroom, not when she wasn't really aware which one Adrien was supposed to use when he was drunk, and chose to sleep on the sofa in the living room instead.

In the morning, Chloé was the one to shake her awake.

“What are you doing?” she questioned, perplexed.

Marinette stretched out her limbs, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that was across her whole body. The sofa was high-quality, yes, but that didn't mean that it was a good idea to sleep on it for an extended amount of time.

“Adrien's in my bed,” she replied bluntly.

Chloé sighed, closing her eyes. “Drunk?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, gathering the blanket up in her lap and intending to fold it. “He had the sense to knock on my door instead of just entering like last time. Maybe in the future he won't at all.”

“I'm going to murder him,” Chloé announced, looking thoroughly fed up as she started to stomp down the hallway.

By the time she returned, it was with Adrien sleepily trailing after her. His skin was paler than usual, hair sticking out, and his eyes were heavy-lidded as he shot her an apologetic smile, clearly not up to talking just yet.

Breakfast was a little awkward. Adrien wasn't talking, Chloé was speaking enough for all of them combined, and Marinette accidentally put her elbow in the butter dish when she was too busy trying to muffle her laughter so she wouldn't offend Chloé in the middle of one of her rants.

“Sorry for last night,” Adrien finally said once he'd finished his drink. His food was barely touched. “I hope I wasn't too annoying.”

Chloé shot him a look of loathing. “How the fuck are you not getting caught going out? There's not even any paparazzi shots of you getting trashed and I don't _understand_.”

“It's a good place,” he replied, shrugging. “A lot of privacy.”

She scoffed. “How do you even get back here, then?”

“A taxi.”

Chloé just glared.

Later on, after they'd all watched a film together until Chloé excused herself to answer her phone, Adrien shifted to look at her.

“Want me to buy a lock for your room?”

She snorted. “If it happens a third time, sure.”

“Might as well be prepared, right?” Adrien answered, smile not quite reaching his green-coloured eyes. “I really am sorry. It's a really shitty thing to do.”

There was still a dull ache in her back. “You knocked this time.”

“I shouldn't have barged into your room at all,” he replied, shaking his head. “I'm just—I don't really think when I'm drunk.”

There was a lot of things she didn't know about him, but since they'd started to text often, she'd learned a bit about him. From the meetings for future modelling jobs, the strict diet that he barely ever stuck to, and what he was doing at certain hours a day, she'd slowly started to learn that as he opened up to her.

So, when he hadn't replied to her messages the previous night, she'd been a bit confused from the silence. “I thought I'd said something wrong again,” Marinette admitted, tucking her legs underneath herself on the armchair. “For you to ignore me, I mean.”

He didn't meet her gaze. “I was just somewhere where my signal's bad, that's all.”

Accepting that, she replied, “I'll try and remember that for next time.”

“I'll give you a warning.” Then, he added on, “For more than barging into your room—I'll say when I can't reply to you for a bit.”

“That'll be nice.” And her words were honest. “You're the one who talks to me the most now. Without you, my phone will be ever-so-silent.”

A laugh escaped him. “Am I just a phone warmer to you?”

“It's not that bad of a model,” she retorted. “I don't need some fancy up-to-date one like you. It's working just fine, thank you.”

He wrinkled his nose. “It's got scratches on the back.”

“From me dropping it, yes,” Marinette confirmed, amused. “I'm not going to replace it until it's absolutely broken. Besides, it was a gift from Andre. I have to treasure it.”

“Fine, fine,” he said with a sigh. “How's the job hunting going, by the way?”

When she'd revealed to him that she hadn't had a job before—which wasn't a lie, it wouldn't be on her falsified records—Adrien had decided to send her links for positions, all of which she was far too inexperienced for. He tended not to look at the requirements, choosing to send them if they were nearby, as he knew that she didn't have a car.

She really didn't have the heart to tell him that she only had a week or so left before she was leaving. Even Chloé didn't know that; she didn't know whether it would be relayed to Andre, and therefore the other officials. Their stance on her leaving was unknown, and she didn't want to risk anything.

But—what was she going back to?

Gabriel and her terrible job listening out for his work phone? She had no genuine friends, no remaining family members, and there wasn't even a pet to keep her grounded. All she really wanted was to graduate from her university course, as she was already on her third year.

If she stayed where she was, with Chloé, it would mean attempt to enrol in a catering course that was nearby after trying to apply for a loan in the first place. It was a lot of hassle, a lot more than the thought of trying to get a job in the first place, but there was no point fantasising about it when she knew that it wasn't possible.

Chloé had definitely become fond of her during their time together, though.

“What if someone actually asks you about living on a farm?” Chloé mused from where she was lounging on the sofa, spread out with her legs placed upon Marinette's lap without asking for permission first. It was a position that showed that she was comfortable with her, enough so not to wear socks despite the autumn weather. “Do you, like, even understand how cows work?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I'm sure they don't really care? None of your friends have actually asked me stuff, other than Adrien.”

“Adrien will believe anything you tell him.” Chloé rolled her eyes. “It's like he believes the sun shines out of your ass or something.”

Marinette let out a laugh at how ridiculous that was. “He's nice.”

“And he thinks you're nice, too.” And with a forced shudder, Chloé added on, “It's disgusting.”

It had become clear that other than Chloé, Nino, and Alya, Adrien didn't have many friends. He avoided going to his classes for as long as possible, using his job as an excuse for his absences, but she still remembered how surprised he'd been when she'd genuinely asked if he wanted to be her friend.

Maybe it was because she didn't know much about him that made him happy to spend time with her. The patience that he'd showed for explaining everything to her hadn't dwindled, and he always seemed to perk up whenever she asked him about something when they were out together, even if it was questioning what a bottled drink tasted like.

“I'm sure he'll be pleased if you skip class to spend time with us,” she pointed out.

Chloé scowled. “I can't do that without having my credit card taken away.”

“Poor thing.” She patted her knee in a patronising way. “You're clearly learning so much.”

Chloé swatted her hand, but it wasn't hard enough to cause any pain. “It doesn't even matter if I flunk my tests. I'll just have to make a lit and drag you two everywhere I want when my break comes.”

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “That sounds great.”

Telling Chloé that she was leaving would've just caused her to want to come along with her. From what she knew, Chloé didn't know where the portal was, and she was going to keep it that way. She could only imagine the trouble it would cause if fae came back through with her, especially since Fu would have to come through and negotiate and try and get them to return home again.

Her cell phone chimed from the coffee table.

Chloé made a noise of disapproval. “Ignore him.”

“That's rude.”

“You saw him hours ago!” Chloé retorted, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “It's like he's trying to steal you away from me or something. Can't he understand that we need family bonding time or some shit?”

She snorted. “Since we're really family.”

“According to everyone else we are,” Chloé pointed out. “Besides, you're not a complete bitch. I'm sure someone will see our relation someday.”

That caused her to laugh loudly.

-x-

Adrien went to class once during her last week to take a test. He'd turned up at the hotel and spent a few hours with her at first, neglecting to say that he had to go in at all, and it was only as he pulled into the university parking lot that she realised where they were at all.

“Sorry about this,” he apologised as he locked the car behind them. “Chloé's only a few classrooms over and she already knows you're coming, so just stay with her for a bit.”

“Swapping you for another babysitter, I see,” she joked.

He grinned, bumping his shoulder against hers gently. “Well, when you get all your identification sorted, we won't have to do this any more.”

“Are you saying you won't hang out with me any more?” Marinette gasped, dramatically placing a hand on her chest, an action she'd seen him do far too many times. “I'm really hurt.”

He hummed, drawing the sound out. “I might be able to make time for you.”

“ _Might_?”

“Maybe, maybe,” he sang, voice echoing on the walls of the hallway. Either he was late or had decided to come early—she didn't know which one to think with him. “We'll just have to see whether you're actually likeable, right?”

She hit his arm without much force. “We both know you like me.”

“Oh, do we?” Adrien grinned, turning to look at her so she could see his smile reached his eyes. “And what evidence do you have to back that up?”

Crossing her arms, Marinette replied, “You spending almost every day with me?”

“Out of pity, clearly.” He made a noise of disapproval with his tongue. “You're not making a very good argument here.”

She sniffed. “Well, I hope you enjoy your ditching days alone in the future. I will on longer be your accomplice when the time comes.”

“It won't be the same without you,” Adrien said. As they stopped in front of a classroom, Adrien was close enough for her to see the blond on the end of his eyelashes. There was a lot that was attractive about him—as with everyone else—but his personality, when he wasn't sulking, was definitely a bonus. “Will you think about me when you're gone?”

That caused her to laugh loudly. “You're making it sound like I'm dying!”

“You might as well be,” he replied, adding a dramatic sigh at the end as he closed his eyes. “You'll be leaving me behind—”

“Hang on,” she interrupted, amusement clear in her voice. “This is supposed to be about me, not you.”

He cracked open one eye. “You're ruining my monologue.”

“ _Good_!” Marinette exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Only villains monologue, everyone knows that.”

He looked at her in suspicion. “Are you turning against me? I thought you were on my side, Marinette!”

“You were literally saying we're not friends two minutes ago,” she deadpanned. “What more do you want from me?”

The laughter that came from him was nice to hear. “Nothing, I'm just teasing you.”

“Oh, no,” she said without any emotion. “What ever will I do without you?”

“Gorge yourself on cheap food without my supervision,” he replied with a wink.

It absolutely didn't make her smile widen.

A vibration from her pocket meant it could only be from Chloé. “I better get going,” she stated, taking out the device and confirming her suspicions. “Chloé's wondering where I am. That means you might be late for your test.”

“Stop worrying!” Adrien answered, shaking his head. “I'll see you in an hour or so, okay?”

“Don't rush it,” she advised, taking a step back in the direction that she needed to go to meet Chloé outside of her classroom. “I'll be just as bored with you as I am without you.”

He snorted. “Real encouraging words, Mari.”

The nickname made her face feel a little warm. “I'm honest.”

“Honestly annoying,” he corrected, grin growing lopsided. “See you.”

She didn't think much of it. They'd grown closer over the time that she'd been staying with Chloé; ever since the second time he'd stumbled in and stolen her bed, he hadn't shunned her from her accidentally saying the wrong thing. Adrien had asked to change the topic, whether they were actually talking or texting, and Marinette had listened to him whenever he'd requested that.

And when he brought up the topic of her family, he listened when she asked to talk about something else. From what she could tell he assumed that she was still too sad from what had happened, wanting to avoid mentioning her life on the countryside—he was still convinced that she'd lived on a farm, of all things—and she couldn't find it within her to correct him when so much time had passed.

“Do you miss it?”

She didn't look up from the novel she was reading. “You'll need to be more specific, Chloé.”

“Earth,” Chloé clarified, sitting down beside her and causing the sofa to shift. It was expensive and didn't cause her to sink in the middle when someone else sat down, unlike the one back at Gabriel's. “You just—you don't mention it, unless I ask.”

Marinette slowly turned the page. “That's because I don't know what to say about it.”

“Tell me something I haven't asked already, then.”

“That's a bit hard,” she muttered. “You've asked basically everything.”

Chloé huffed. “Come on.”

“I—” Marinette cut herself off, not knowing how to phrase it without potentially offending her.

As much as they'd started to get along, there had been a few instances where Chloé had ignored her for an hour or two when she'd made the wrong comment, only for Chloé to wander hours later and pretend that nothing had happened at all. It was a lot better than Adrien's long silent treatment, at least.

Instinctively, she reached up to fiddle with her hair. “I always wore a hat back home. It's weird to be without one.”

“Okay?” It came out sounding like a question. “You could've said that when we were shopping.”

“I was already upset that you were spending money on me,” she pointed out, not as shy to voice her protests any more. “I didn't complain about anything you picked. Even the tight shirts that make me want to cry.”

Chloé just kicked her lightly. “Why the hats?”

She gnawed on the inside of her cheek for a bit, eyes focusing on one sentence that she'd read multiple times at that point. “To—to hide my ears.”

“Why?”

Sometimes, it really seemed that Chloé didn't listen to her well enough.

“Because they caused me to have unwanted attention,” Marinette admitted, patting the hair over the top of one ear, the new habit she'd developed once the hats had disappeared. “My boss made me not pack any with me. Something about fitting in, but that's a load of bullshit.”

It was a slip she hadn't made before. “Boss?” Chloé queried, sitting upright and looking at her with furrowed eyebrows. “They knew you were coming here?”

“I—yeah,” she stuttered. “I had to give in my notice, you know? He was the only one that would really question where I would've gone if I just up and disappeared.”

Chloé's expression didn't lighten up. “I don't like him.”

“You don't know him,” Marinette replied through her laughter. “It's fine. I'll just—I'll save up and buy some eventually.”

“Fuck that.” Reaching out, Chloé plucked her phone from where she'd put it on the coffee table, illuminating the screen and pulling up the browser. “I'm ordering you some right now. What kind of shit do you want?”

Her throat felt a little tight. “You don't have to—”

In a comforting fashion that only Chloé could show, she interrupted her with, “Save the emotional crap for after I've used my credit card.”

There wasn't any room to argue with her. Chloé found a bag and a jacket that she wanted for herself, so she claimed that Marinette had to pick something so their order would qualify for free shipping—Chloé knew pointing out that she'd have to pay more otherwise would make her choose—and it as announced a little bit later that they'd come the following week.

Marinette still didn't have the heart to tell her that she'd be gone before then.

She'd liked staying with Chloé and Andre, truly. They were more than welcoming, had provided more than she'd ever expected, and would most likely be worried when she disappeared. She planned to leave a note behind to say her good-byes, hoping to use the excuse that she was meeting Adrien somewhere to skip out of going to class with Chloé, but there was chance that it wouldn't go well.

When Adrien appeared to spend the day with her the day before she planned to leave, they decided to stay in the living room and watch films to pass the time. He'd been to a shoot the day before, resulting in a lot of talk about him appearing on the internet when he'd been photographed going to the location, and it made his mood less vibrant than usual.

“Have you ever wondered why we're all so pretty?” Marinette blurted, struggling to find the right words to ask her question.

He looked at her strangely. “Are you fishing for a compliment?”

That wasn't the case. She'd been told countless times in her life that she was attractive—it came with the genes, sadly, and she'd long since accepted that that would always be the talking point that someone would use to refer to her at home.

“No.” She shook her head. “I... I mean with the whole world-hopping thing, there's never been another race recorded down that's as—well, attractive as us.”

From where he was sitting beside her on the sofa, he leaned back against the cushion as he made a contemplative noise. “There's not really an answer anywhere. That's just how we are, I think.”

“It's strange, though,” she replied, furrowing her brow. “Even—even if we have a child with another race, our genes are dominant.”

There hadn't been a half-fae child recorded that didn't have the ears or pleasing-looking features. Although, there hadn't been a third-generation fae born from a human parent and a half-fae when she'd been back at home, and she doubted that that had changed in the past month that she'd been gone. Her kind were often focused on success and furthering their careers, rather than uselessly attempting to stay out of the spotlight and having a family. It hadn't worked very well for her parents, after all.

She almost jumped in surprise as he stretched his arm out behind her head, adjusting to sit in a more comfortable position.

“Well,” Adrien started, drawing out the word. “Earth was—is—the most similar planet to ours. That's what my mother was looking for when she went; she wanted somewhere where she could blend in and make a life easily.”

A laugh of disbelief left her. “A lot of good that did.”

“Pardon?” And when she turned to face him, his expression could only be described as puzzled. “Why do you say that?”

It was good that there was an excuse that she could use. For all Adrien knew, she was just another fae that was out of touch with the rest of the world, and that was it. “Everyone hates them,” Marinette lamely defended herself. “Humans—other than you.”

Adrien's lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Then, after he'd licked his lips, he quietly asked, “Do you really think I count as a human?”

It was a question that she'd asked her parents countless times. She'd asked herself it in the mirror, trying to smooth her hair over her ears when she was younger before she'd been shown that she could hide them with a hat.

“I think,” she started slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You can be whatever you want—it shouldn't matter who your parents are.”

The smile that tugged on his lips didn't reach his eyes. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, closing her eyes as she leaned back, surprised that his arm wasn't too uncomfortable from where she could feel it at the back of her beck.

The silence between them was comfortable. The film was still playing in the background, but the volume wasn't too loud. As she shifted to get more comfortable, she could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, and as he hadn't moved away, she assumed that she wasn't too heavy.

She'd miss him.

As a child, the class-mates she'd tried to befriend had made fun of her ears, and then when they'd grown up and realised who she was—and what she could mean if they boasted about her to their parents, or other friends—she'd started to distrust people and distance herself because of it. She'd never really had a friend that she could cuddle up against on a sofa, not since she'd been able to think for herself.

It was a shame, too. The time she'd spent with Adrien was exciting, fun even when he'd dragged her to a nearby museum that the two of them hadn't liked any of the art within.

“Thanks for being my friend,” she said softly. “I've never really had any before you and Chloé.”

“I'd like to think I'm higher ranked than Chloé,” he quipped. “She counts as family. I deserve the best friend title, right?”

She hummed. “Do you?”

When he laughed, she could feel it. “Are you saying I don't?”

“I don't know,” Marinette proclaimed, purposely slow. “Can we really be classed as friends?”

Then, she became aware of a soft touch to her hair, fingertips skimming her jawline awkwardly from where he'd moved the arm that was wrapped around her, the one she was resting on. Marinette opened her eyes, sure that her surprise was visible on her expression as she turned to face him.

He was close.

Enough so that when he spoke, she could feel his breath against her skin. “Do you not want to be?” he asked quietly, barely audible above the sound of the television.

Their noses were almost touching. Sharply inhaling in surprise from the sudden shift, Marinette was more than aware of the way her face heated up in response to his actions. She—she hadn't expected that kind of reaction, not when she'd just been referencing their banter from the university a couple of days prior.

“A-Adrien,” she stuttered, puling back and sitting upright to create some distance between them.

There was no missing the way his expression quickly turned to one of surprise before redness flooded his cheeks and becoming apparent on his ears. Marinette scooted back, extracting herself from where she'd been within his arm, running a hand through her hair as she tried to think of what to say.

He was the one to break the silence first.

“I'm sorry,” he blurted, rubbing at the nape of his neck with the hand that had touched her face previously. “I—I guess I was reading this all wrong.”

Her stomach tightened.

The way blood rushed to her face when he complimented her couldn't be a coincidence when it had happened multiple times, nor the warmth in her chest she felt when he smiled brightly, but she'd stubbornly ignored all of that, deeming it inappropriate for her stay. It wasn't as though she'd be there for long; even if she wanted her first taste of romance, she decided to spare herself of the possibility of rejection.

Except with the way he wasn't meeting her gaze, it was becoming clear that he'd, maybe, developed feelings for her, too.

“You—you weren't. I—” Marinette cut herself off with a frustrated noise, slumping back against the arm of the sofa. “I haven't really done this before.”

Whether she meant rejecting him or the whole experience, she didn't know.

“Does that—” Adrien cleared his throat. “Do you like me?”

It felt so juvenile, but it was something she'd missed out on. “I do, but...” Marinette took in an breath, fiddling with the end of her sleeve. “I'm not—I'm not ready for anything to happen.”

It sounded lame to even her own ears. She was planning to leave the following day and he'd decided to show interest in her—or, maybe, he had been for a while and she hadn't picked up on it. It wasn't as though she had a lot to compare his actions to, not when she'd thought he was just being a good friend to her.

However, she still didn't want to hurt him any more than he'd already be with her disappearance.

“I'm sorry if I came across as pushy,” he quietly said, green-coloured eyes flickering up to meet her gaze as he offered her a soft smile. “I just—I really like you, Marinette. I don't mind waiting—I mean, if you want me to, that is.”

The way he was stumbling over his words was endearing, but it caused her to try and swallow the lump in her throat. The guilty was steadily building.

“That seems really selfish to ask of you,” she admitted, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I'm... I'm really sorry.”

“Don't be,” he answered without skipping a beat. “I can still be your best friend, right?”

A smile tugged on her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Adrien replied with a laugh, and it didn't sound forced or half-hearted. “Someone has to keep me humble—that's your job.”

She snorted. “I'd never use that word to describe you.”

“You're clearly not doing your job well enough, then,” he scolded.

It was a little awkward, but the atmosphere wasn't stifling. She didn't feel uncomfortable with him after the rejection, though she noticed that he'd moved a bit further away on the sofa. It was understand, definitely, that he wanted to keep their bodies apart for a little bit after the blunder.

She really hadn't seen it coming.

They went back to watching the film, even though they'd missed a large portion of it. Marinette had grown fond of some franchises, ones that weren't yet completed, but she knew that she wouldn't be back to finish them. She'd taken to looking up spoilers online if they were based on books, but that usually led to a lot of confusion due to the amount of plot that was left off.

The original reason that she'd asked Adrien to spend the day in with her had popped up after the film finished.

“Can I ask you for a favour?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you cashing in your best friend status already?”

Rolling her eyes at that, Marinette clarified, “I just need you to lie for me tomorrow—not for anything bad! I... I want to repay Andre and Chloé for taking me, and even you, so I'm going to go into town and buy some things.”

His expression visibly softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed, the words almost getting caught in her throat. “I'm not going to tell you what I'm buying, though! Don't even try.”

“Not even in return for lying for you?” He made a noise of disapproval. “That's real mean.”

She shook her head. “I'm not going to ruin it for you.”

“Fine, fine,” he gave in without much of a fight, smile reaching his eyes as he looked at her. “That's sweet of you, but you really don't have to get me anything—or Chloé, for that matter.”

“I know, I know.” She waved a hand dismissively. “It has to be hard to buy something for you two who have _everything_ , but I have a plan.”

It felt wrong to lie to him, but he trusted her enough to go along with it. There wasn't any hesitance there, no doubt for what she was planning to do, much like when she'd given him directions to drive to see Fu without further explaining herself. Maybe he was just too trusting to those that he let close to him, or he wanted to blindly see the good in someone—she wasn't sure which.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I've got you covered.”

She swallowed thickly. “Thank you.”

-x-

Andre had disappeared for work and Chloé had left for her classes early. Adrien usually came a few minutes after Chloé had disappeared, but that wasn't the case that morning.

Chloé had been kind enough to give her some money for the day. Well, she'd shoved it into her hands, and Marinette had taken less than a quarter of it, leaving the rest on her bedside table as she rummaged through her wardrobe to retrieve the bag that she'd brought along with her.

The limited amount of clothes fit back in snugly, and she laughed at the sight of the pocketknife that was sitting at the bottom of the bag. She'd been so pessimistic about coming, especially as Gabriel had made it sound like she was going to solve a fucking murder mystery, but that hadn't been the case at all. Fu hadn't reported anyone using the portal, no one was bragging about being able to kill humans (then again, they wouldn't when world-hopping was a crime), and all she'd done was spend weeks making friends and visiting places that she hadn't since she was a kid.

It was definitely a vacation. Gabriel's expectations of her had been pushed aside after some time, and all she felt for him was confusion for his motivations in the first place.

The notepad filled with information and pictures was stuffed in at the bottom.

She picked one outfit that Chloé had bought her to wear, while the rest of the clothing was left in the wardrobe. It would've been suspicious if she packed any with her, though the disappearance of her bag could be explained by Adrien saying that she was buying gifts.

It felt bad to lie to them, but she didn't want to give them any chances to come along with her. Sure, there wasn't much back at home, but she didn't want the government coming down on Gabriel for her disappearance, especially as he'd have to awkwardly explain that she'd passed over to the other realm with his assistance.

Chloé didn't know where the portal was, and other than Fu taking care of her, she doubted that Adrien would connect the dots.

Working out the routes she had to take on the different buses was a little confusing. Marinette had taken the cell phone along with her, even though it would cease to work when she passed through, and kept the tables up on the screen so she knew where she had to go.

Her feet started to hurt by the time she'd made it to Fu's cottage.

It took him a while to answer the door. She smiled softly when she saw him, and he returned the gesture, inviting her inside for a hot drink before her departure.

“Did you enjoy your vacation?” he questioned when they'd both sat down on the armchairs in his living room.

She snorted. “Yeah, I guess. I learned absolutely nothing about the reason Gabriel sent me here.”

He just smiled. “I'm glad you had fun, at least.”

There was something nagging at her, though. “You're not going to get in trouble for this, are you?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “I can just say I couldn't run to catch you to you—old legs and all, you know.”

For all the humour, she was still worried. “I don't want to cause you any trouble.”

“It'll be fine, Marinette,” Fu assured her, reaching out and putting his hand upon hers gently. “You may not want to hear this, but you're welcome in both worlds. If you ever want to come back to visit, there'll be a bed for you here.”

It was silly, but him saying that had her blinking rapidly to stop the prickling in her eyes. She'd never really felt like she'd belonged back at home; from the gawking to the expectations for her to succeed, it wasn't a healthy environment, but the past weeks with Chloé and Adrien just had the two of them wanting the best for her, even if that meant a ridiculous lunch that she wanted to cry from when she saw the price of her meal.

“I'm not sure everyone else will have that opinion, but thank you,” she answered, sincerity clear in her voice. “But I—I have something to ask you.”

“Go on,” he encouraged her, withdrawing his hand.

She took a big sip from her drink. “Do you also think that about Adrien?”

“I was wondering when you were going to bring that up,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “I do, but he... I had to deny him when he approached me before.”

“Why?” she prodded.

Fu let out an audible breath. “He was too young, too emotional from his mother's passing. Even if I managed to convince Gabriel to let him through safely, there would've been a commotion from his disappearance here. It's a shame that he's in the spotlight so much.”

Compared to her, a fake relative of Chloé's that had only been around for a month, no one would really care about her disappearance. The officials that granted her to live with Andre would surely be disappointed in her, but she doubted that they'd reach out to Fu for confirmation, let alone demand for him to get her to come back through.

She wasn't that valuable. She wasn't Emilie, a beloved celebrity running away to another world with her friends.

She was just Marinette, a lonely person who didn't quite know where she belonged.

Her voice was soft as she said, “Thank you for answering me.”

-x-

Gabriel hadn't scolded her.

It was an adjustment being back home, though. There was no one waiting in the forest when she went through, a throbbing apparent from the cut she'd carefully made to get the droplets of blood, and she just sat down on the large slab of stone and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself grounded.

She didn't know how long it was until she heard the tell-tale sound of footsteps.

Gabriel's lanky form came into view and she was instantly reminded that she was back home; his forehead was too large to be considered attractive, and his stern expression wasn't one that could be used to model. There wasn't anything striking about him other than the pale blue of his eyes, and it was such a little feature that it was almost disorientating to her after seeing countless attractive-looking crowds for weeks.

It was strange.

Marinette didn't launch into a recount of how her trip went. Instead, they walked in silence back to his home, walking past one of his co-workers that was sitting at the front desk, raising their eyebrows at her appearance.

They'd never been particularly nice to her, but after living in a world where humans had been portrayed for being villains in all media, she found herself focusing on their ears instead of trying to hide her own.

She'd never get the hats Chloé ordered for her.

Gabriel's office was as welcoming as it always was. It was nothing compared to the intimidating atmosphere she'd felt when she was being interviewed in front of the officials, but there was a certain charm to how impersonal it looked—the lack of pictures on his desk was telling, even when she was supposed to be his foster daughter.

“I didn't find anything,” Marinette said, breaking the silence when she'd sat down in a seat across from him. “But you expected that, didn't you? It was a long-shot sending me there without _anything_.”

Raising his eyebrows didn't do any favours for his appearance; it made the wrinkles more pronounced, his age showing along with his disapproval. “Nothing?”

“It wasn't like I could go to the police and ask them, could I?” she countered, letting her distaste for his initial reason for her leaving show. “I just—I don't understand why you sent me there at all. What could you possibly gain from it?”

Resting his elbows on the desk, he clasped his hands together. “And if I did it for you?”

That made her laugh. “I've been shown more kindness in the last month than I've ever gotten from you.”

“I won't argue with that.” It almost looked like the corner of his mouth were curling upwards. “There hasn't been any sightings or incidents since you've gone.”

She resisted rolling her eyes. “That's because it only happens yearly.”

“Welcome back, Marinette,” Gabriel said, but there wasn't any warmth in his voice. “Did you find out anything interesting?”

“You mean other than humans only being shown as villains or the start of the apocalypse?”

It seemed that he'd started to grow fed up with her attitude as he reprimanded her with, “I am still your boss.”

It was true, though. She needed the job that she had to continue living there, so she could go back to her classes since her allowed absence was coming to an end. She pursed her lips, staring at him in silence to try and show her negative thoughts.

“Any information you believe will be useful to us?” Gabriel asked, rephrasing his question carefully.

There wasn't anything, not really. “Not that'll help with guarding the portal,” Marinette replied, honest. “I mostly took notes of their history and architecture. It's very similar to ours.”

He didn't press her for anything more.

Marinette excused herself, going back upstairs to the bedroom that she hadn't stepped foot in in a while. It definitely wasn't as large as the room she'd been staying in, nor was the bed as comfortable, but she smiled at the drawings that she'd stuck onto the walls and the glowing stars that she'd used a wobbly stool to put onto the ceiling.

It wasn't much, but it was hers.

Any of Gabriel's staff that she came across gave her pretty much the same indifferent reactions that they'd always had. Some of them stared at her for a while, and she'd looked back, confused that they seemed to be interested in her at all, before she realised that her signature hat that she always wore at home was off.

It was strange putting it back on.

The following day, she was back to classes. To give her something to remember, to tell herself that things could be different, Marinette wore the clothes that she'd returned in, running her fingers over the material of the long-sleeved shirt that Chloé had bought for her.

Her class-mates welcomed her back, trying to strike up conversations and find out the reason for her disappearance. She heard a few whispers, them speculating whether she'd auditioned for television shows to get herself out there, and she laughed underneath her breath when she wondered whether that was how Adrien always felt when he overheard people.

The thought of Adrien sobered her up. How had he and Chloé reacted to her disappearance? Or even Andre, and she was sure that he would be the one to alert the other members that she'd disappeared with no calls going through to her cell phone.

She didn't found out whether her mother's name was mentioned in the diary Chloé had gotten from her mother.

The monthly check-up came on her third day back. Marinette blandly replied to all their questions without much care, not as nervous as she'd been when she was younger. She understood the need for them to ask whether she felt safe, or if there was anyone standing out to her lately that she deemed to be a threat, but that didn't mean that she had to like it.

They always stayed a little bit longer to talk to Gabriel. He worked with their section, as Gabriel had access to the pictures of other fae in the country so he could identify them if they came to use the portal, but that had never been the case.

The days went back to how they used to. She barely conversed with her class-mates, had no one to ride back with, or even spend the day avoiding classes with, and going home meant locking herself in her bedroom after her part-time work was finished.

There wasn't anything exciting going on. She spent most of her free time online, trying to find something to do, while some of Gabriel's co-workers tried to make conversation with her, but none were very successful.

She absolutely hated that he worked from home. Then again, he had to be there to hear the alarm if anyone went near the portal—but no one had ever fucking done it, so it seemed pointless in her eyes.

Sure, the other realm had problems—as her own did—but she'd enjoyed her stay there. Other than the world-hopping hate, there wasn't anything that drastically different to her own; it could've been so much worse, but it wasn't. She flipped through the notebook, taking out some of the pictures she'd printed out and stuck them to the noticeboard on her desk.

No one came into her room anyway, and it wasn't as though putting them up would be dangerous. In the pictures she'd taken with—or of—others, all of their ears were clearly visible through their hair, but she didn't hate it as much as she used to.

That didn't stop her from wearing her hat, however. That part of her hadn't changed. It was a lot better for her to reach up and adjust the hat, rather than fiddle with her hair when she was feeling nervous or self-conscious.

It was just strange going from spending everyday with at least one person by her side for most of it to being alone. The conversations she had with Gabriel were fleeting and awkward, and the meals she ate alone were stifling from the silence in the room. She'd tried to make her food and then eat in the living room with the television on, as she'd done countless times with Chloé, choosing to abandon the dining table when they were feeling lazy, but that was interrupted from her overhearing Gabriel talking on the phone further down the hall.

It was lonely, to say the least.

There wasn't much she could do about that, though. Gabriel would never allow her to have a pet, and while she was still in university, the job she was doing for Gabriel was the best that she'd get; the hours weren't bad, it meant that he took the money for her rent out of her pay, so she continued to save up the little bit that was left after it.

As the year changed into a new one, the weather grew colder, and Marinette slowly started to get used to being by herself again, she did the one thing that she always rejected.

When one of her class-mates asked her to go out with them, for the umpteenth time since their course had started together, she paused before actually saying yes. They'd been together for over two years, all of them on their last one together, and yet she'd never actually tried to get to know them.

It was only natural for their eyes to drift to her ears when they were together, right? If Adrien had been able to make actual friends in a world where he was a novelty, then she was sure that she could do the same, too.

That didn't mean that she didn't find it awkward. Their invitation had been to a nightclub that had opened the previous year nearby, and while she hadn't actually gone out to such a thing by herself before, she felt safe enough to go with a hat tugged over her head, clothing and her hair effectively hiding what she wanted.

Gabriel didn't really care where she was going, even though it was rare for her to leave when it was dark at all. The security on her was pretty lax because of that, along with her connection to Gabriel in the first place, so she didn't have anyone checking on throughout the night. Instead, she messaged Gabriel to say that she was fine, along with agreeing to tell him when she was coming home.

It was like having a neglectful father.

Her class-mates were visibly surprised and excited when she actually turned up. They picked her up from down the street from her home, not too far or close enough to know exactly where she lived, and they didn't question her clothing. Instead, a few tried to make normal conversation with her, and she awkwardly replied, trying her best not to come off as cold.

When they got to the nightclub, two of them offered to buy her a drink, but Marinette had already had enough of that. She politely declined and went to the bar herself, feeling a bit swamped from the taller figures that were already around her, trying to catch the bartender's attention.

It wasn't that bad of an evening, honestly. When she'd started to relax a bit, but never letting go of her drink, she was able to listen to her class-mates banter from a close distance, for once. They included her when they could, asking her opinion for some arguments, but she was happy just to listen to them talking so comfortably within her presence.

The only thing she didn't agree to was someone else getting her a drink. It was just a precaution, one that she'd been told for all her life, especially due to her status. Marinette sipped her drinks slowly, savouring them, and when she wandered across to the bar to get her third one, she dropped the glass that she was holding.

It shattered by her feet, but her jeans protected her from getting hurt.

There was someone else like her at the bar. It shouldn't have been possible, not when she'd only ever seen another fae in person on Kyuon, and yet there was no denying the sight in front of her.

Their ears were sticking out from their blond hair, much too realistic to be some of the fake ones that people tended to wear for costumes. It was only because of the lights that she caught that detail at all, and the thought of being closer to someone else—someone like her—and her swallowing nervously.

At least, that was until she'd walked close enough to see their face properly, rather than just a glimpse from the side. He was there, happily talking to the person to his side who was offering money across to the bartender, clearly buying him a drink.

She was struck by the wrongness of it all, her loud exhale covered by the sound of the thumping music.

Marinette stared, blinking rapidly, willing the image to change. She wanted the blond hair to distort, for the ears to disappear, for the bright smile that she'd come to know to wither away and transform into something else entirely—but that wasn't happening.

There was no way for him to be there, and yet, the image wasn't changing.

Taking a few shaky steps in his direction, Marinette wetted her lips before she reached out to tap on his shoulder. She had to—she had to confirm it, even if she knew that her eyes couldn't be lying to her.

And when he turned to face her, there was really no denying it. Not when his eyes widened, the blond that was visible on the end of his eyelashes standing out even beneath the terrible lighting in the nightclub, and the way his whole expression shifted to portray the shock that he was feeling.

She was absolutely sure that hers was the same.

“Adrien?” she asked, but it was too quiet compared to the music.

Ignoring the person beside him, ditching the drink that he'd only just acquired, Adrien turned to her fully, taking a step forward with parted lips as he reached out and gently tangled his hand in her hair, as if checking that she was real.

Her throat felt tight.

It was the curious looks that they were getting that caused her to remember where they were; in public, eyes staring at them not only because of who Adrien was—how rare he was to see, even if he wasn't supposed to be there, let alone in her world—but because of how intimate their interaction had been, too. Marinette panicked, wrapping her hand around his wrist and pulling him in the direction of the exit.

From the lack of protest, she had to assume that he had no problems with her actions.

The cold air wasn't welcome against her face. She sucked in a harsh breath as they came to a stop once she'd pulled him into the alleyway to the side, trying to find privacy despite it almost being midnight that night with most establishments around them closed.

“What—what are you doing here?” she asked, voice breathy from how fast they'd been moving.

When there was no answer, she finally turned to face him, quickly realising that she was still holding onto his wrist. Marinette pulled her hand away immediately, holding it to her chest from surprise, before she finally met his gaze.

There was no way to describe his expression any more.

“Adrien?” she called, voice quivering.

He continued to stare before his face visibly crumpled as he took a step back.

“Adrien—” Marinette tried, reaching out to maybe hold onto his shirt, anything to keep him from walking away. There was no way that she was imagining it all; she'd only had two drinks, and that certainly wasn't enough to hallucinate, let alone imagine the feel of touching him.

“You're...” Adrien trailed off, brows furrowed as he looked at her.

It suddenly hit her why his reaction would be so negative—she'd left, using him as an excuse to do so. There hadn't been any farewell from her, no warning that she'd disappear when they'd grown so close, and she imagined if the situations were reversed, she would've already been crying.

She swallowed. “Adrien.”

“Why are you here?” His question was blunt, his emotions not showing in his words. “You're—we've been _looking_ for you.”

There was no way that he didn't see her wince. “I—”

“It's been over a month,” he stated, no hint of a smile on his face. “We've been— _Chloé's_ been—” Adrien paused, cutting himself off with a frustrated noise, closing his eyes for a moment as he exhaled. The tension was clear on his body, and the thought that it was all because of her had her feeling incredibly missing. “We thought you could've fucking died, Marinette.”

She'd never thought that he'd look at her so coldly, let alone for it to be in a dark alleyway.

There was so much she wanted to answer, to ask him, but all that came out was, “Did Fu let you through?”

His expression twisted. “You mean like he let _you_?”

There was no bag on his back, and he wasn't even wearing a jacket. Adrien was barely dressed for the winter weather—his shirt was long-sleeved, at least, but there was already the tell-tale signs of his hands turning red from the temperature. Marinette was a little better with her jacket, but she hadn't been expecting to stay out for too long.

“Do you want to go somewhere warmer to talk?”

“I—” Adrien stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn't planning on staying.”

And if the situation wasn't already strange enough, it didn't make sense that he'd be there for such short time. Gabriel would've been alerted if anyone had come through the portal—even the dates of the conversations with Fu were jotted down—and she would've come across the file when she sorted them, surely.

“I'm half-human,” Marinette settled with saying. “I'm not even related to Chloé, Adrien.”

That just made him stare at her with wide eyes. It was clear from his reaction that the hadn't heard that titbit yet; then again, it might've just been because he hadn't met someone like him in person before.

Her voice shook as she added on, “I'm sorry. I really am, but I had to return home before—before my check-up.”

“...What?” he questioned, sounding utterly perplexed.

“Please, come somewhere else with me,” she requested, but to her, it came across as begging. Her hands were beginning to get cold, the chill on her face uncomfortable, but it had to be nothing compared to how he was feeling. “I'll explain it all, I will. I just—it's already impossible enough that you're _here—_ ”

He didn't move back when she took a step towards him. “Why?”

“Why?” she parroted, wondering which part he was referring to.

“Why tell me now?” he clarified, sounding as hurt as he looked. “You—you didn't before, so why now?”

As she rapidly blinked to try and stop the liquid that was welling up, Marinette quietly replied, “I didn't want to risk having you follow me here.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “But I'm here.”

“You are,” she confirmed, the corner of her lips tugging upwards. “So, please, come somewhere warmer with me?”

When she reached out to take his hand in hers, feeling how cold his skin felt, he didn't pull away. Marinette took that as enough confirmation that he was agreeable to her proposal, and it was with a glance upwards to see the red on the end of his nose that she made her decision.

Taking off her hat, feeling the cold air immediately, Marinette said, “This first.”

There was no rejection as she stood on her toes, trying to make herself taller as she reached up and gently put the hat over him, carefully rearranging his hair to hide the top of his ears in a fashion that she was utterly familiar with.

“There,” she whispered when she was done, immediately putting her hands into her pockets. “I'm—I'm already known around here, but I'm betting that you're not even registered, are you?”

“Registered?” he questioned, looking as bewildered as when she'd mentioned the check-up.

Her smile wasn't sincere. “Didn't Fu tell you anything?”

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “I've—today's my first day here.”

And from the way that he was getting others to buy him drinks, it was clear that he hadn't thought to hide his identity. And why would he? From his perspective, he didn't know what happened on Earth, let alone what Marinette had to deal with—

Because he didn't know.

It didn't take much convincing to take him to an open diner. It wasn't the type that he used to take her to; it was dingy, the floors were dirty, but the sign that said that it was open was all that she needed to know. From the curious look that he gave the establishment when they went inside, she wondered whether he was going through the same thoughts that she had when she'd first arrived at his home.

They claimed the table the furthest away from the counter. There weren't many others inside—an old man with a newspaper—and she ordered their drinks before joining back at the table.

“Why are you here?” Marinette asked again, bluntly opening their conversation.

Adrien stared down at his hands on the table where he was fiddling with a napkin. “I wanted a break.”

It wasn't a very informative answer. For all the times that she'd wanted to tell him, she'd chosen to stay quiet out of fear of him repeating his mother's actions; if he world-hopped any of the favour that he'd managed to get from his country—his _world—_ would've disappeared if he copied her.

And yet, he was there.

“You'll be _exiled_.” Her voice cracked. “You can't be here.”

The smile didn't reach his eyes. “What they don't know won't hurt them, right?”

“You came here without telling anyone?” Marinette questioned, horrified. “I— _you_ —”

“I'll go back in the morning,” Adrien interrupted, still not looking away from where he'd started to rip the napkin up, the little pieces falling down onto the table. “It's not like I'm doing anything wrong—I've done it before.”

That made her stomach clench. “What?”

“It's not a big deal,” he muttered. “I'll be back before I'm even needed.”

But he couldn't have. Gabriel would've known if someone came through—

“Adrien,” she whispered, trying hard to ignore how nauseated she felt. “You didn't go to Fu, did you?”

The hands on the napkin stopped.

It was a confirmation.

As her mouth grew dry, the sickening feeling being more apparent, the waiter came over and put their mugs in front of them. Marinette couldn't even thank them for their service—even though they'd stared at her ears as she'd fucking ordered—without the fear that she'd vomit.

Even though she knew it was ridiculous to ask, Marinette had to question, “Did you—did you use his portal?”

He was still staring at his unmoving hands. “No.”

There was another portal. Adrien was using it without alerting anyone—without Fu to act as a gatekeeper, to record those that went through—and either another was using it, too, or Adrien had changed from being the sweet person that she knew into someone else entirely.

She put her face in her hands, breathing out in frustration.

“How long?” Her voice was coming out weak, not as strong as she wanted to be with her demands. They sounded pathetic to her. “How long have you been using it?”

When she looked up, she was able to see the napkin fluttering down onto the table.

“Please,” she said, voice cracking.

His hands were pulled back, disappearing under the table from where he put them onto his thighs. “A few years.”

The prominent feeling of her heartbeat wasn't positive. It wasn't the warm feeling that she'd almost become accustomed to having around him; rather, it was from terror of his future answers. “Five?”

“Around that, I think,” he admitted, not lifting his head as she stared at him through her blurry eyes.

A sob escaped her.

As his head snapped up, she wasn't able to see his expression when he asked, “Marinette?”

“Does—does anyone else use it?” she asked, the quivering from her restrained tears.

He shook his head. “It's hidden.”

“Please,” Marinette outright begged. “It—it can't be that well hidden, can it? Someone else has to be able to use it—”

There was a beat of silence where the only sound was her harsh breathing. Adrien broke it some moments later with the tentative question of, “What's wrong?”

“What's _wrong_?” she repeated, coming across hysterical to herself. Frustrated, Marinette closed her eyes, burying her face in her hands once more, not wanting him to see her when she was so close to breaking down into tears. “How—how did you even make one? It's restricted, it shouldn't be possible any more!”

Instead of wanting to keep it a secret, Adrien quietly replied, “It... I found it in my mother's diary.”

“Someone's using it,” she stated, voice a bit muffled due to her hands. “They've—there's proof that someone's here who's unauthorised.”

“It could just be me,” he offered. “I've been coming here every few months or so since I was... I think I was sixteen? Fifteen? Something along those lines.”

She clenched her eyes shut. “It adds up.”

“Does it?” he queried, befuddled. “Are you—are you actually going to tell me anything? Because I have no idea what's going on right now. I don't even understand why you're _here_.”

Swallowing audibly, Marinette decided to reply bluntly, “I'm here because of your portal.”

“You didn't even know mine existed.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I actually went through to try and find out who was yours; even though it seemed pointless. I didn't exactly have any evidence or sway to get information while I was pretending to be a girl from the countryside.”

As she dropped her hands down onto the table, she heard him take in a breath. “Are you going to tell me about that now?”

Her gaze flickered to her untouched drink. “Okay.”

-x-

Adrien was upset with her, understandably.

She told him all about the ridiculous mission that Gabriel had sent on her—to which he looked at her in confusion at first—before explaining her reasons for lying while leaving. The thing he couldn't get over, however, was that Andre and Chloé knew that she was from Earth and that they hadn't brought it up once when she'd disappeared.

“Of course not,” Marinette replied quietly. “Chloé wasn't even supposed to know. Andre broke the rule by even telling her.”

That didn't make him feel any better. Marinette had to wonder whether they'd really contacted the government with her disappearance, or if Fu had been pestered because of her leaving. She really hoped that she hadn't caused him trouble, not when he'd been so supportive the whole time.

When it came to Marinette revealing that the first murder had been five years prior, without saying who the victims were, Adrien sucked in a harsh breath. “I—I'm not a murderer.”

“No.” Her stomach churned violently at that thought. “There's actually footage of them that we can compare to you to prove you're innocent.”

He looked at her doubtfully. “And you have access to it?”

They'd been on their second drinks at that time, the two of them completely sobered up. Adrien had gone on to question why she hadn't had any evidence with her—not even a screenshot of the crime that had been caught—and she didn't have a good reason for that, not when Gabriel had never fully explained himself.

Much like with Chloé, Adrien's mother had kept a diary. The only difference for hers was that it had included the banned ritual that she'd used to open the portal in the first place—somehow, when the book with the information in it had been confiscated, they'd neglected to check the journal for such information.

It had taken him two years to actually conjure a portal. According to him, it was small, meaning he had to crouch and duck into it to make it work, and he'd vomited the first time he'd used it due to how uncomfortable he felt.

He'd made little markers in the forest that he'd used to find his way to and from, and while he was younger he'd slowly explored his surroundings every few weeks when he had free time, the rare moments where he wouldn't be missed. And when he'd gotten older, enough to get into nightclubs and other places without identification, he'd wandered onto her side for the free drinks and the attention that he'd received without them knowing who he was.

“You're such an idiot,” Marinette accused, horrified. “There—you could've been in so much danger.”

She didn't flinch when he reached across the table to gently place his hand on top of hers. “I'm fine.”

But all those horror stories she'd heard over the years were flowing through her head. If he'd managed to get into trouble, if anything had happened and he'd gone missing, there wasn't a check-up to confirm his safety or any security to keep track of him. He'd been in the bar, happily receiving free drinks and having everything paid for him—because he didn't have any of his own _money—_ without realising how strange it would be for anyone that saw him.

“This isn't Kyuon,” she said with a sigh. “You can't—you can't act like it's the same here.”

When she asked him whether he had any more magic than being able to conjure the portal in the first place, Adrien had laughed. She didn't know whether to be offended to that reaction at first, but he looked at her fondly as he said that he didn't possess enough for that; no one of his world did, and they hadn't for _years_. It was a miracle that his mother had been able to use the book at all, and for him to use it, too, was beyond what he thought he could possibly do.

“I cried when I first summoned it,” he admitted. “I had all these cuts on my hands and just fucking broke down. I had a shoot the following day, too, and I don't think they really bought my lie that I fell over.”

But it wasn't all laughter. It was clear that he was still upset with her—to which she didn't hold it against him—and with the sun slowly coming up outside, Marinette ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

He didn't have anything planned for the next day, other than his classes that he'd never attend. It was because of that that Marinette made up her mind and invited him back to her home.

Adrien looked shocked at that. “Really?”

As much as she didn't want to, it was their best idea. “Yes,” she confirmed, not looking into his eyes as they started to walk through the streets. “It'll give us the chance to talk to Gabriel tomorrow.”

He didn't have any arguments to that. Marinette had assured him that they'd be able to clear his name in moments when they were able to access the footage—even though she'd only glanced at it once or twice herself—but she was certain that it couldn't be Adrien committing the murders. For one, he didn't consider the ones on Earth to be traitors to his kind, not when he was treated like an oddity at times by his own people.

“So,” he started as they walked around a corner. The hat was still on his head, and his hands were tucked into his pockets to try and combat the cold temperature. “Which one of your parents was human?”

He'd tried to sound casual, but she could tell he was nervous from how high-pitched his voice had sounded.

“My father,” Marinette whispered. “My—my mother was Sabine, if that helps.”

“Oh.” There was a small pause. “I've read that name in my mother's dairy.”

A smile tugged on her lips. “That's more than Chloé could tell me. I think she forgot, honestly.”

Going back home was easy. Marinette took out her phone, surprised when she saw that she had a few messages from her class-mates asking where she was, before she sent a text to Gabriel to tell him that she was coming home. It was highly unlikely that he'd wait out for her, so she urged Adrien to be quiet as they entered.

Gabriel's co-workers wouldn't be there until the morning, and if Adrien managed to keep his hat on, she was planning to pass him off as a one-night stand, if necessary.

“I hope you're okay with sharing the bed with me while you're sober,” she quipped as they approached the porch. “I'm not letting you sleep on the floor.”

Raising a hand up to run through his hair, Adrien ended up touching the hat nervously instead. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “We'll get a couple hours sleep before anyone comes over. It's normally pretty quiet in the mornings.”

Even though she'd said that, there was still a lingering feeling of awkwardness that she felt when she realised that it hadn't been too long ago that she'd rejected him. Surely, he'd connected the dots and realised that it was because she was leaving? Then again, she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, not when it should've been impossible to see him again as it was.

Their footsteps seemed to echo in the silence of the house.

Marinette took her shoes off inside her bedroom, urging him to do the same, before she turned on the light on the bedside table.

As she didn't have any clothes for him to change into, Adrien got into her bed in his shirt and underwear. She excused herself to the bathroom to change before climbing into bed beside him, turning off the light and staring into the darkness for a few minutes.

There wasn't any talking between them.

She woke up hours later to the sound of distant chatter. The windows were still open, untouched from the previous night, and she turned over to see Adrien sleeping without a care beside her. His hair was messy, marks on his face from her pillow, and it was definitely a better experience than when he'd first climbed into bed with her.

Checking her cell phone confirmed that it wasn't anywhere near noon. Although it was considered work, she mostly just stayed in Gabriel's office when he wanted her to go through files, otherwise she was in her bedroom with the door open to listen for the phone.

She reached over and shook him gently, calling his name.

Adrien grumbled, pressing his face further into the pillow.

It took a little while to actually get him to respond to her properly, and then he'd jolted upright and stared at her in shock, as though he'd forgotten the events of the previous night. Then, he'd just laughed and put his face in his hands, his reaction showing his disbelief from how things had turned out.

She didn't blame him.

She did let him use the shower first after assuring him that it would be safe to go there. Marinette tried to see whether she had any oversized clothing that would fit him, and ended up pulling out a pink-coloured hoodie that she knew was far too big. It was the best that she could do for him, sadly.

When he came back and saw it, he was happy more than anything else. Marinette excused herself to shower, and when she returned with wet hair and new clothing on, including her own hat, Adrien's hair was mostly dry. The hoodie wasn't too small on him—it did show his wrists at times—but it would do to combat the weather.

“You ready?” she asked softly when she noticed that he kept fiddling with his hair.

His smile looked more like a grimace. “Not like I really have a choice.”

“You'll be fine,” Marinette assured him, holding out the hat in her hand. “Let's just hide this part about you for a bit, yeah?”

Adrien's smile became shaky as he accepted it, gently putting it on his head before looking at her for approval.

Without hesitation, Marinette reached up and corrected it, making sure the top of his ears were covered. “You're going to be fine,” she whispered, trying not to show how nervous she was. “Besides, if anything goes bad, I'll kick him in the balls and you'll run away to your secret portal, okay?”

That made him laugh.

As she made her way down the stairs, Adrien slowly trailed after her. One of Gabriel's co-workers was in the living room, idly playing with their phone, and they didn't look up as they walked past. From the panicked look that Adrien gave her, she tried to assure him that it was fine with her expression only, but that was harder than she'd expected.

Instead, she reached out and gently took his hand into hers as she used the other one to knock on the office door where she could hear Gabriel talking on the phone inside. It took three knocks for him to tell her to come in, and with a small tug, she dragged Adrien with her and closed the door behind them.

Gabriel was stood out, back facing them as he finished his call.

“It's okay,” Marinette whispered as Adrien's hand tightened around her own. The nerves were clear on his expression, and although she wasn't too familiar with seeing him being that way, it wasn't hard for her to identify his emotions.

They'd spent so much time together until she'd practically deserted him and disappeared. That must've been how he viewed it from his perspective, at least, and she didn't know whether that had changed from her explanation of it all.

When Gabriel turned around to see who was in his office, his expression immediately turned to disapproval as he looked at her. “You know better than to disturb me while I'm working,” he scolded, his eyes flickering to the hand that she was holding. “What do you think you're doing?”

There was an intake of breath beside her.

“Giving you a breakthrough with your investigation,” she replied bluntly, not the nervous girl that had hesitated to talk to him at all that she'd been in the beginning. “This is Adrien.”

Gabriel's lips curled down into a frown. “Explain.”

“Adrien's—”

Except she didn't make it through with her sentence because Adrien interrupted her by blurting out loudly, “You're _Gabriel_.”

His hand tightened around hers again.

It didn't make Gabriel's expression change in the slightest. “Pardon?”

“You— _you're_ — ” Adrien cut himself off, turning to look at her with wide eyes, disbelief and confusion clear across his expression.

But she didn't understand what was going on. She'd told him about Gabriel in passing, the shit boss that she worked for, and at the diner the previous night, but none of that should've caused that type of reaction from him, not at all.

Marinette took a step towards him, gently putting her free hand on his shoulder and tried to help him calm down, but it wasn't helping much. She could _hear_ his breaths as he looked at her in panic, completely ignoring the looming figure that was staring at them from across the office, and it was with a startled breath that escaped her that Adrien decided to hug her tightly.

Surprisingly, she didn't stiffen. Instead, she reached out and gently touched his hat, their hands still clasped together at their side, and asked quietly, “What's going on?”

His face was buried into her neck and hair. “I—I can't believe this.”

“What?” she prodded gently, just wanting to understand what was going on in his head.

She could feel it as he exhaled. “That's... I think that's my father, Marinette—no, I-I _know_ it is.”

And if the situation wasn't stressful enough as it was, that definitely made it a lot worse.

-x-

Gabriel was an asshole.

Well, that was pretty much confirmed beforehand; his terrible parenting was proof of that, along with the clear ulterior motive for taking her in, but she'd never thought that he'd send her off to another world with the secret reason that he hoped that she'd find out what had happened to his ex-girlfriend.

“You?” Marinette questioned, aggressively incredulous. “Emilie loved _you_?”

It was fucking ridiculous.

He'd told her it was for a noble reason, to try and stop the murders, and when she'd confronted him on that again, he'd given a hollow laugh and replied, “Did you really think that you'd be entrusted with something so important?”

She had the right to feel annoyed.

While Adrien seemed close to breaking down, choosing to look at her rather than anyone else in the room after the secret had come out—well, more like Marinette had outright demanded Gabriel to say whether he knew Emilie out not—Marinette couldn't help but feel irritation.

For the way Gabriel had treated her over the years and the proof of why he'd sent her to Kyuon in the first place—he'd only wanted to know about Emilie since she'd been four months pregnant when she'd gone back.

Adrien had looked at her for help, and Marinette had excused them and given him time to calm down in her bedroom with her word given to Gabriel that she'd be back down soon to talk. Adrien didn't seem to be in a good condition to do it himself, which she understood, but she didn't know what to do for him as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

He wasn't looking at it. Instead, his gaze was flickering around her bedroom until they landed on the photographs that she'd stuck up from her time on Kyuon.

“You...” Adrien trailed off. “You kept them?”

She couldn't stop herself from smiling. “Of course.”

His words were quiet, barely audible, as he said, “Even though you knew you were leaving us.”

It made her stomach clench from guilt. “I—I never meant to hurt anyone,” she whispered, repeating the same phrase that she'd said countless times in the diner, trying to get him to understand. “Really, I-I didn't—especially not you.”

They hadn't brought up her rejection before, and it definitely wasn't the time to do it then.

“I—” Adrien paused, shaking his head. “I don't need a father.”

She shifted her weight on her feet.

“I've lived without him all my life,” he continued, closing his eyes. “Why—why would I need him now? When he's... I don't like that he's so cold to you.”

That made her feel a little bit warm. “You're legally an adult, you don't have to talk to him unless you want to.”

“I'm not even registered here,” he pointed out, using her own words against her. “I-I can't handle this.”

She crossed the room slowly, coming to stand in front of him, almost touching his knees. “I can go down there for you,” Marinette offered, gently reaching out to place her hand onto his shoulder, trying to show her support. “I know basically everything, right? You can come down when you're ready.”

“Are you sure?” It came out as a whisper.

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, moving her hand and adjusting his hat. “I'll go and make it clear that he has no claim over you whatsoever. You can come down whenever you want, even if it's just to go out and get some food together, okay?”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “I can't believe you're here.”

“I'm pretty sure that's my line right now,” she mused, hand falling onto his shoulder and squeezing one more time. “If you want to distract yourself, you're welcome to read any of my books, or even use my laptop.”

His smile reached his eyes when he opened them. “Thanks, Marinette.”

“See you soon,” she said as her good-bye words for the time being.

It wasn't that easy to get Gabriel to understand. He wanted to see Adrien, not taking no for an answer at first when Marinette returned without him, but she was able to make him see sense. Adrien had lived twenty-one years without him and the only reason he knew who he was because his mother had kept a picture of Gabriel in her diary, a reminder of what she'd left.

Gabriel didn't want to think that Adrien was a killer, but pulling up the footage proved that it wasn't him. The height was off from the video, the hair colour all wrong (even though it could be a wig), and the sigh of relief that left her felt _amazing_. Even though she hadn't wanted to believe it, there could've been a small chance that it was still him.

When Adrien did come downstairs, still dressed in her pink hoodie, he looked paler than usual. With a knock on the office door and a call of her name, they went out for lunch.

“Are you sure you're okay not talking to him?” she asked softly when their food had been delivered. “It's—whatever you choose is okay, really. I just want to make sure you're certain.”

He shook his head. “It's kind of pointless, isn't it? It's not like he's going to let me back over here once my portal's been found.”

“Fu might let you over.”

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I'm never going to see you again.”

Her throat felt tight. “You don't know that.”

“You can't come back over to see me,” Adrien pointed out, staring down at his food as he pushed it around the plate. “You're a missing person. Chloé made sure to have your photo put on _everything_.”

The thought of Chloé was one that she'd pushed aside since she'd met him again. She didn't want to think of how jealous her friend would be that she was left out, how hurt she must've felt when she realised that Marinette was gone—unless she really thought that she was missing.

“I-I don't know if Fu's lied for me or not,” Marinette admitted, choking up a little. “From what it sounds like, they don't even expect that I'm here.”

The smile that tugged on his lips wasn't sincere at all. “I can't believe you're not from the countryside.”

“I'm sorry for lying to you,” she said for the umpteenth time. “I just—I couldn't risk you, or even Chloé, trying to come back here with me. But now I know that was kind of useless with you.”

He shook his head. “No one knows that I come here.”

“Someone does, apparently,” she pointed out. “And—and they're angry enough to hurt those that were exiled.”

It still didn't make sense to her that they were able to find out where the fae lived. That information was heavily guarded, not for the public to know, and if someone was coming through from Kyuon, they surely didn't have much knowledge about how Earth worked. The culture shock should've stopped them from doing too much—but that wasn't the case.

She jumped when Adrien gently rested his hand on top of hers. “What are you thinking about you?” he asked quietly.

“Nothing important,” she lied. “When do you have to go back?”

The unhappy frown that appeared on his lips was almost endearing. “Not until tonight,” he replied reluctantly. “I have a photoshoot in the morning.”

“Oh, the woes of being so popular,” she teased.

He raised his eyebrows. “Don't think I haven't noticed the looks you've been getting since we've been sat down.”

It was her turn to frown then. “That's different.”

“Is it?” He tilted his head slightly to the side as he looked at her quizzically. “We're liked because we're different, are we not?”

She squeezed his hand. “You're not any different to me.”

“Well, other than my gender.” And he had the gall to wink. “I... I never expected you to be anything else, and that's what's making this so weird for me, I think. I never would've guessed it.”

She blinked. “I don't see how you're any different either.”

“I'm serious,” Adrien insisted. “I thought you were just really out of touch with the world, that was all. I really believed the whole countryside explanation.”

Marinette wrinkled her nose. It hadn't been believable from the first moment. “That's because you managed to hear one of Chloé's better excuses, probably. She said a lot of shit to people. I think she was just trying to see whether anyone would call her out on her bullshit.”

They stayed there until the late afternoon. The conversation swapped to lighter topics for a bit, but that couldn't get rid of the lingering sadness that either of them were feeling. Adrien didn't bring up Gabriel again, and Marinette didn't try and push him to think about his feelings. It was enough that he hadn't closed himself off and ignored her for hours on end again.

When they met up with Gabriel again, Adrien didn't look his way. Marinette had messaged him to meet them outside of the café they'd been at—if their mood had been happier, she would've gloated that she was finally repaying him for all the times he'd paid for her on Kyuon—and it only took five minutes for him to turn up.

The awkward atmosphere between them was stifling.

Adrien stuck close to her, their shoulders almost touching as he slowly guided them through the city. It turned out that it wasn't that far from the original portal; a roughly fifteen minute walk. Like the last, it was surrounded by trees for cover, and it was revealed that he wasn't kidding about it being small.

The circular slab that the blood would have to be dropped down onto was barely a metre wide. It was no wonder that he'd have to crouch when the portal appeared at all.

Gabriel, who'd been taking pictures with his phone to document the route that they were taking, was tight-lipped and silent the whole time. He stared at their interactions, obviously wanting to say something, but nothing came out.

She didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or not. Their relationship wasn't great, sure, but that didn't mean she couldn't understand his feelings, at least a little bit. He'd found out that Emilie had died and that he had a son within the same day—

She just wondered why Fu had never told him. Maybe he'd never even asked—that did seem like a Gabriel thing to do.

“I should get going,” Adrien announced quietly, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Are—you'll be okay here, won't you?”

There was a lump in her throat as she swallowed. “I'll be okay.”

He looked at her dubiously. “Are you sure?”

It hurt to dwell on it. She'd started to become used to her old life once more, slowly trailing through the month and trying to do everything that that she did before, but it was hard. She had meals alone, kept to herself during lessons, and definitely didn't have friends that she'd spend time with. Her class-mates hadn't been too bad when they went out, but she'd ditched them within an hour due to seeing Adrien—they were bound to be a bit miffed about that, especially as she'd ignored their messages.

“I'm sure.” It sounded like a lie even to her. “Worry about yourself, Adrien. And try and go to class.”

A quiet laugh escaped him. “I'll just leave all my worry here with you, thank you.”

Taking a step towards him, Marinette had to ask, “Can I hug you?”

The softness that appeared on his expression was hard to miss. The corners of his eyes had crinkled with his smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he replied, “You don't need permission for that.”

Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, head resting on his chest, and he returned in kind by putting his own loosely around her chest. It was the hug she'd wished she could've given him or Chloé before she left the first time, but there hadn't been time for that.

“I still have to come back, you know,” he reminded her. “I can't tip them off that the portal's rigged. You're not getting rid of me just yet.”

She laughed. “But that's going to be so far away.”

“I'll just turn up to your house unannounced,” Adrien murmured. “How does that sound?”

Unlike what Andre had done for her, she didn't have a phone to give Adrien to solely use when he came through. Gabriel had pointed out that Adrien needed to act normally, so the other that used the portal wouldn't be aware that the exit was soon to be monitored or tampered with. The plan was for the same security to set up around, including the alarm system in Gabriel's office to alert them that anyone would come through.

“I'll know when you're here,” she pointed out. “Well, when someone comes through. It might not be you.”

He hummed. “But you have cameras, right?”

“Yeah,” Marinette confirmed, resting her cheek against his chest to be more comfortable. “Guess I'll just have to look for your face before running out here to meet you.”

His arms shifted around her. “Or we can meet at the café you took me to earlier. That's kind of between us, isn't it?”

“It'll do, I suppose,” she mused. “I do get to pay for you, after all. That's really swaying my answer to a yes.”

He snorted. “Or you can come through to my end and let me spoil you some more.”

“I'm a missing person.”

Without missing a beat, Adrien replied, “Wear a wig.”

The laughter that left her was genuine. They were joking around at such an inappropriate moment; minutes ago she was feeling close to tears from the thought of him leaving again, but he knew how to cheer her up.

“Try not to get into too much trouble,” she requested. “Keep a low profile or something. It'll be disastrous if paparazzi follow you and find out.”

She was able to feel his laughter even through all his layers. “You sure do have a lot of faith in me.”

They were interrupted by Gabriel clearing his throat behind them. Marinette jumped, taking a step back on instinct, embarrassed that she'd forgotten that he was there at all. As her face felt hot, she looked up to see Adrien smiling shamelessly at all, not at all as flustered as she was feeling.

“I'll see you soon,” Adrien said softly.

She blinked rapidly. “You better.”

-x-

The murders were never committed on the same date, let alone month. There was no pattern that they could tell, which was infuriating, so she had no idea what to expect.

The thing she least expected, however, was for Gabriel to invite her out for dinner.

They never went out. She'd been cooking for herself for years, and he'd been doing the same, meaning that they barely interacted. The even had separate bathrooms so they wouldn't bump into each other, so the time they spent together was severely limited.

There was only one thing on his mind, though.

“Tell me about my son,” was how he opened their conversation when they'd sat down in a restaurant.

As it it wasn't already awkward enough between them. Marinette stared at him incredulously, waiting to see whether he'd add anything onto that, but from the staring that the two of them were doing, it was clear that he didn't want to.

“He's not your son,” she said, lips curling down into a frown.

Gabriel's disapproving expression caused his wrinkles to stand out more.

“You—you didn't even know he existed for twenty-one years,” she stuttered, knowing that she couldn't walk away from the restaurant without causing a scene. He'd deliberately drove them a while away, enough so that it would cause her feet to hurt if she wandered back by herself. “You don't have any claim to him.”

It was already clear that Adrien didn't want anything to do with him. Although he hadn't gone into detail why, other than saying he'd already lived his life without him, and therefore didn't want to change it, there wasn't any reason that he had to explain himself.

“Marinette,” Gabriel started, pausing only when a waiter came to take their drink order.

As he'd already said that he was paying, she pointed to a random drink on the list, hoping for the best.

“He's my friend,” she finally said when the waiter had wandered off. “I—I'm not going to betray him and tell you anything.”

That didn't mean that he didn't try, however. The whole dinner was an awkward mess, and it was clear that the only reason he was spending time with her was because he wanted information. If he'd been kind when she'd first arrived then, maybe, she would've understood, but from her standpoint of living with him for five years, it had come across that he disliked fae.

His co-workers had distaste for them, at least.

It was three weeks until she saw him again.

Marinette had spent the past weeks going through the motions, always asking Gabriel whether anyone had come through when she got home. The monitors were always available to be seen in his office, rather than switched off to only listen for the alarm. Gabriel had demanded for her not to tell everyone about what was going on; not many came into his office as it was, and it turned out that he was worried about a leak.

It made sense. They were one of the sources for where the other fae lived—if someone opened the lock to Gabriel's office when he was in bed, they would've been able to access them easily. Rather than keeping everything only on computer, he preferred to have another physical copy, all of which were stored in the room without another lock or anything to keep someone was prying.

She'd never really thought about it before, but since Adrien had disappeared, she was staring at Gabriel's co-workers with some suspicion. A few still tried to talk to her, but most outright ignored her, as they had done all the time she'd lived there, so no one was acting any differently.

A lot of scenarios went through her head for how the fae that came through managed to gain access to the files. Did they know the coordinates for Fu's portal and had traced that other to their side? It was possible, after all, as their realms were so very similar.

It was when she'd just finished her classes for the day that she checked her phone to find a message from Gabriel. It was dated from an hour before, stating that Adrien had passed through and had stayed on their side.

From what she knew, it was the first time in a while that he was coming through not to get drunk.

She didn't bother going home to change into new clothing. She took the hat she'd kept in her backpack out and shoved it onto her head quickly, practically sprinting out of the campus, ignoring the curious stares that were sent her way.

As he'd said he'd do, Adrien was sat at the table they'd used before at the café. He didn't have a drink in front of him, however, but he had his bag down by his feet and his elbow on the table, resting his head on his palm as he stared out the window.

Just seeing him across the room made a wide smile appear on her lips. He'd listened to her advice and had a hat on, a jacket draped over the back of the chair to protect him from the winter weather, and she didn't waste any time in crossing the room.

When she stopped in front of him, she immediately leaned down and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into the most awkward hug that could come from their positions. She didn't really care that his face was squashed against her chest, and the shocked exclamation that escaped him made her laugh loudly before he called her name in question.

“Of course,” she replied, laughter clear in her voice. “You're not expecting anyone else, are you?”

Pulling back so he could look at her, Adrien answered, “Well, I'm not going to say that wasn't the breast greeting I've ever had.”

She flicked his nose. “What do you want to drink?”

“Anything,” he said, smile reaching his eyes. “You should remember what I like, right? We did hang out almost daily.”

“Is this a test?” she questioned, looking at him suspiciously. “What happens if I get it wrong?”

His grin grew lopsided. “Are you asking me to punish you?”

“After your fucking terrible pun?” She snorted. “I don't think so, Adrien.”

He did like his drink, but he put on a dramatic face as he took his first sip, humming loudly as if to contemplate whether it suited his tastes or not. Marinette had rolled her eyes and promptly ignored him, stirring her own instead.

It was nice to see him again.

Adrien told her about what she missed—which included Chloé tripping over and spilling her coffee over someone she hated the one day he attended university—and Marinette tried to fill him in on what had happened with her, but it wasn't much.

When it came up that he'd been waiting for close to an hour, Marinette offered to buy him a phone that she'd buy credit for whenever he needed it. Adrien had declined at first, shaking his head and refusing to agree to it at all, but she was persistent, saying that she'd happily skip a class or two to spend time with him when they so rarely saw each other.

She was still considered a missing person, though.

“They're still paying for your phone,” Adrien confessed as he stirred the small remainder of his drink. “In the hopes that you'll turn in on and talk to them. They—neither of them have told me where you're really from, so I don't know whether they think you're actually here or not.”

It had been over two months since she'd last seen Chloé. The lie of buying gifts was long gone, and the cell phone that they'd gifted her was in a drawer in her bedroom, switched off to preserve battery. She hadn't even tested whether her normal charger would work on it or not.

It still made her feel guilty that she'd left like that.

Staring down at her drink, Marinette asked softly, “Are you going to tell them?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I've been thinking about bringing Chloé along with me for a while. Do you—do you think Gabriel would be mad, I mean, if I did bring her?”

She dropped the spoon with less care that she would've normally. “I don't know,” she said. “He's not... I don't really know what he's thinking when it comes to you. He's still trying to get me to tell him about you.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She exhaled audibly. “But I... I haven't told him anything. It doesn't seem like it's my place to.”

“You can, if you want,” Adrien answered, shifting in his seat and causing their knees to touch underneath the table. “I don't really care? I've barely thought about him since the last time, honestly.”

It was strange to think that. While Gabriel had been trying to grasp at anything he could, trying to approach Marinette more often than not and attempt to endear himself to her to gain answers, Adrien hadn't cared in the slightest. He went on to confess that knowing that Gabriel was alive, still, hadn't really changed anything for him. There was no relationship that he wanted to build with him, not when he'd never been present in his life.

“They had a fight.” It was said after a short silence when she'd returned to the table with another round of drinks for the two of them, including food that would shortly be delivered to them. “My—my parents, I mean. They fought.”

The best answer she could give him was a confused look.

“That's why she didn't stay,” Adrien revealed, reaching out and picking up one of the napkins that she'd just gotten. “Even though she was pregnant with me, she didn't want to stay.”

It was the first time he was bringing up why his mother had left. “Are you—do you resent her for that?”

“I used to,” he admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “But I understand more now that I'm older. I never—it just never seemed like a big deal when I was little, the whole human hating thing.”

“It was a huge shock when I went over there,” Marinette answered, remembering her confusion when she was sat in Fu's living room. “It's the complete opposite of here. There's so much bullshit sold because of the lies your mother suggested everyone use—if anyone ever came out with the truth, I doubt it would be believed.”

He grinned. “I remember her telling me about that.”

“Troublesome,” she muttered. “Some of my class-mates believe you have carriages towed by unicorns and whatnot. It's _ridiculous_.”

He winked. “We only use them to go to balls.”

When he brought up the idea of selling the money he'd brought from Kyuon, Marinette had to quickly interject. There wasn't much of it left—most was in a museum for show, along with a few photographs and other items that were donated from the ones that were exiled—and a sudden appearance of it would only cause questions to be asked, especially if it was found being sold online.

She was just happy that he was finally letting her pay for stuff, even though he didn't have much of a choice.

As he'd done for her, Marinette took him to somewhere else in the city to pass time. He was using the camera on his phone to take pictures, making sure to snake his arm around her shoulder and bring her close to get her in one with him, and her cheeks were hurting from laughing so much when it was starting to become dark.

“Do you have to go back?” she questioned when they walked outside, a shiver running through her from the cold weather. She'd forgotten to wear a scarf that morning, but she was glad her coat had warm pockets.

Adrien turned to look at her with raised eyebrows. “Is that your way of asking me to sleep with you?”

She scoffed. “You can sleep on the floor and freeze.”

“That hurts.” He sniffed dramatically. “But I... I can stay, if you want me to.”

“I want you to,” she blurted, face feeling a bit warm as he looked at her in surprise. “I—I don't get to see you often as it is. I'm not going to push you to go back until you really have to, you know.”

His smile showed the indents on his cheeks. “Not even if I touch your legs with my cold feet?”

“We'll see if any of my socks fit you.”

They were walking close enough that her shoulder was brushing against him every few steps. “And what if none of them do?”

“I'll kick you and scream bloody murder if touch me with your toes, then.”

“Only my toes?” he quipped. “That's good to know.”

She hit his side with her elbow.

-x-

They kept it up for a while.

Adrien had been advised to only appear the same amount of times he would before, but he confessed to her that he wanted to leave most nights, either to have a break to spend time with her. The second time he came through was two weeks later while she was in class again, and to her horror, Gabriel had gone to meet him at the café.

When she'd arrived, a bit out of breath from running off of the campus again, she'd cringed at the sight of the two of them sat across from each other, not talking. She'd tiptoed closer, not knowing how to break the awkward atmosphere, but she didn't have to worry much because Gabriel had left without a word as soon as he'd caught sight of her.

Adrien hugged her first that time.

She responded in kind, cheek pressed against his chest as she squeezed right back, trying to silently convey how happy she was to see him. It was earlier than she'd expected, but after he'd left and she'd gotten her pay from work, Marinette had done what she'd promised and gone to buy a phone for him, complete with some credit for him to use.

She presented it to him with a flourish.

“It's pink,” was his first reaction.

Marinette's grin grew. “To match your hoodie.”

That caused him to laugh. “I've actually been wearing that.”

Considering he hadn't brought it back with him, she'd expected the worst, even though Adrien hadn't struck her as the type to just throw away something that he'd been given. “You're welcome.”

“I might have to steal some of your pyjamas next,” he joked. “Or bring some over.”

A warm feeling appeared in her chest. “You're staying the night again?”

“If you're still okay with that,” Adrien answered quietly. “I can always go back home. I really don't mind.”

“No, no.” She shook her head, hat becoming askew from her actions. “I like waking up with you.”

And then, to her surprise, she could see the redness that appeared on his cheeks. It wasn't from the weather; he'd been inside for close to two hours at that point.

It was flattering to see.

They hadn't really brought up their feelings from before. Marinette was more than aware that she was still fond of him, but it wasn't in the nervous way that made her hands clammy. She felt comfortable with him after spending so much time together, and she was happy just to sit in silence as they sipped their drinks instead of grasping for any topic to discuss, trying to cram conversation into the lull of their talks.

She was happy when he was beside her. The tight hugs made her feel a little breathless, the fond smiles that were directed her way were reciprocated, and the sadness that she felt whenever he left wasn't something that could be ignored.

She just didn't have that much experience. She'd had a few crushes before, but nothing had happened with them, not when she'd been so self-conscious about herself. Any of the confessions that had come her way had been rejected due to her suspecting ulterior motives, or that their feelings weren't actually genuine, and it was just her luck that the one time she truly liked someone, they were out of her reach.

They wouldn't even be able to message each other when they weren't together. The daily texts that he'd sent back when she was staying with Chloé had disappeared, and there was no way for them to contact each other whatsoever, and she highly doubted that even putting one cup on a string through the portal and keeping one on the other side would work.

Different worlds was a messy concept.

Sharing a bed meant they were on different sides, as far apart as they could without falling out of the bed. They didn't make conversation after the lights had gone off—they never did—and she was aware of every breath he took as she kept her eyes closed, trying to slow down the fluttering of her heart.

It was worth it to see his messy hair in the morning.

Rather than going out, they'd woken up early enough for her to use the kitchen downstairs. Adrien complied with slipping the hat on immediately after he'd gotten dressed, having remembered to wear one at all times while he was over in her world.

“I don't need to attract someone to buy me drinks any more,” he teased when she adjusted his hat.

She was starting to suspect that he purposely left one of his ears tucked out so she'd do it for him. “You could've smiled at someone and got them to do it without flashing your ears in the first place,” she muttered.

His grin grew. “Are you calling me attractive, Marinette?”

With an unimpressed look, she put her hands back by her side. “Yeah, you and everyone else who has similar genetics.”

“That doesn't mean I think everyone's attractive,” he pointed out. “Some people just aren't my style, you know?”

“Sure.” She understood that, of course. It had been overwhelming at first to see everyone on Kyuon, but once she'd gotten used to how everyone looked, it had become easier to spot the differences, particularly the ones where someone was next to a parent or other familiar member. “But you are considered a model for a reason.”

Following along behind her, Adrien mused, “So you _are_ calling me hot.”

“Do you know what's not hot?” she asked, not waiting for a response. “Your ego.”

“That's awful,” he said with a laugh as they went down the stairs. “I'm just trying to see whether I still have a chance with you or not.”

That almost caused her to miss a step. Luckily, she made it down to the bottom without incident, but she did turn around and stare up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

Their height difference was more pronounced from him standing on the last step while she was on the floor. “Too soon?” he questioned, tilting his head slightly to the side quizzically. “Or too blunt?”

“Too everything,” Marinette responded, a bit baffled. “I—you know this wouldn't work between us, right?”

Adrien had the decency to look sheepish as he reached up to touch the nape of his neck. “That doesn't mean I don't want to try.”

“That's not really a good answer.” She swallowed audibly. “I don't even know when I'll next be able to see you.”

“True,” he answered slowly. “But I—I still really like you, Marinette.”

It wasn't a conversation they should've been happening. Adrien knew what was happening that time, so she didn't have the excuse for rejecting him for his own good, but it still had her feeling hesitant. It wouldn't be a normal long-distance relationship between them; for one, she wouldn't know if anything happened to him, and they didn't know how long Gabriel would allow the portal to be in use.

The only reason he was allowed through as it was was to keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong. They didn't know if one of Gabriel's co-workers was responsible for the information leak, or whether the murderer would be tipped off that they were being watched or not.

She wetted her lips.

“I'm not trying to pressure you or anything,” Adrien said, his voice cracking at the end, showing his nerves. “I just—I really like waking up next to you.”

That caused her to laugh. “You would've continued to see my morning face even without the confession, you know.”

“Yeah.” A small smile appeared on his lips. “But I do kind of want to kiss you when you're sleepy, so I think being honest is a good idea.”

There was no ignoring the warmth on her face. “You'll only see me once a month.”

“It'll be worth it,” he replied without hesitation, “or you could wear a wig and come visit me. I'm sure you could convince Gabriel to let you through.”

She looked at him dubiously. “You'd have a better chance of that—he wants to talk to you, after all.”

“Can you—” Adrien cut himself off, shying away from her gaze. “Can you think about it? Until the next time we're together?”

It was clear that he was nervous. Marinette could see the way he was shifting the weight on his feet, not quite looking into her eyes, and it caused her smile to slowly grow as she looked at him fondly.

“Okay,” she answered softly. “I'll think about it.”

His eyes were wide as he finally looked at her. “Really?”

“But only if you do, too,” she added on.

“Are you really asking me to think about you?” Adrien's smile became more confident. “That's a mighty bold of you.”

She snorted. “I'm going to burn your food.”

“No, don't do that,” he immediately. “I'll promise to be good. I want to see you cooking.”

It was late afternoon when he left. Adrien said he'd use the excuse that he was hungover to explain why he hadn't replied to anyone, but she was still nervous that he was spending too much time with her. He'd only come over to drink in bars the previous few times, before he knew she was there, and hadn't come in the afternoons since before he was underage (or looked it).

The hug she gave him when was leaving was just as tight as when she saw him.

She was absolutely sure that he'd kissed the top of her head, too.

“I'll see you soon,” he promised, leaning back to look down at her without removing his arms from around her waist. “Make sure to think about it.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Don't do anything stupid.”

“Me?” Adrien gasped. “ _Never_.”

As it turned out, he did.

The next time he appeared was three weeks later on a weekend, for once. The difference to all the other things, other than not appearing when she was in class, was that when she met him in the café, he had a large bruise on his cheek.

Marinette gaped, ignoring their ritual hug to put her hand gently on his jaw, angling his face upwards to try and get a better look of the damage. “What happened?” she demanded, voice a bit more high-pitched than usual.

He grimaced. “Chloé.”

“ _Chloé_ ,” she repeated, incredulous. “Why?”

“I... I might've told her where I've been going.”

Letting her hands drop from his face, she wrapped her arms around his neck for an awkward hug while he was still sitting. “You're an idiot.”

“Any idea whether I can be your idiot yet?” And as she tightened her hold, he made an exaggerated choking noise. “Okay, okay. I'm sorry.”

“You better be,” she muttered. “We'll move onto that after you fully explain yourself.”

He hadn't hidden the pictures he'd taken with her last time well enough, apparently. Chloé had caught sight of them on his camera roll and had snatched his phone to see them properly, outraged when she finally saw what they really were. She'd reacted by throwing his phone harshly at his cheek—hard enough to eave the bruise from the day before—and the screen had shattered when it had dropped down onto the floor.

He looked sheepish as he admitted, “She's still not talking to me.”

Marinette didn't blame her. “Does she—” Pausing, she collected her thoughts before asking quietly, “Does she hate me?”

“No,” he assured her, placing his hand gently on top of hers on the table. “She's just upset that I kept it from her. She pretty much knew that you'd come back here.”

“And she's not...” Marinette's gaze flickered to the door. “She's not here with you, is she?”

He shook his head. “No, but I suspect that she'll want to in the future. I don't think I can really talk her out of it—she might just stalk me, honestly.”

“Not like someone's done that to you before,” she muttered, bitter. “I... I'll probably cry, if she does come here.”

Chloé would stand out, surely. She was loud and wasn't good at keeping her reactions to herself, which would surely draw attention to them, even if she was just walking down a street. There was also the fact that Marinette didn't have much money left and already felt guilty that she was dipping into her savings whenever she met up with Adrien, wanting to try and return the generosity that he'd shown her.

“I'll give you some warning if I do tell her where it is,” Adrien vowed, squeezing her hand. “It won't be next time, I promise.”

Any talk about their feelings didn't pop up again until they were in her bedroom. Gabriel had awkwardly tried to make conversation with Adrien when they'd gotten through the door, but one of his co-workers was present in the living room, leaving not much to be said between them.

When they were comfortably in her bedroom, Marinette had her back against her mattress and was staring up at the ceiling above her. “We can go out and do something, if you want,” she spoke up, worried that he was growing bored.

“No, thank you.” The bed moved as he copied her position, their shoulders touching as he shuffled beside her. “I'd rather spend time with you.”

With a smile, Marinette replied, “You're just trying to sweet-talk me.”

“I'm always trying to do that,” he teased. “We could always watch the sequel to that film we were watching last time, right?”

It was one of the ridiculous fae-related ones. Adrien had admitted that he'd tried to get into one of the cinemas when he was younger, but the lack of money hadn't helped, and no one had offered to buy him a ticket, sadly.

With her laptop perched on the edge of her desk, the film started playing, the sound filling the room, and she was sat up against her headboard with pillows behind the two of them to be comfortable. She didn't resist when Adrien shifted and put his arm over her shoulder, as he'd done all those months ago in Chloé's living room, and happily adjusting so she was resting her cheek against his shoulder as they watched.

“So,” Adrien started when there was a lull in dialogue. “Have you been thinking?”

It didn't take her long to get what he meant, but she didn't want to make it easy for him. Instead, she hummed contemplatively before answering, “I think daily, Adrien.”

“That's good.” And for a moment, she thought he was going to leave it at that. “Are any of those thoughts about me?”

She snorted. “Well, they are right now. You're my pillow right now.”

“Is that all I'm demoted to?” he said with a gasp, putting his free hand over his heart. “A pillow for you?”

“You should feel honoured,” she replied, lifting her head up so she was able to see his expression. “You're quite comfortable.”

He sniffed. “I can't tell if that's supposed to be a compliment or not.”

“Are you begging for compliments again?” And as his hand fell back to his side, she reached out and prodded his chest gently. “I'm not here to feed your ego, you know.”

“Yes,” he agreed, corners of his eyes crinkling from his smile as he stared down at her. “That's what I like about you.”

They were close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin, their noses almost touching. “Oh, really?” Marinette said softly.

He hummed in agreement. “Do you want to know what else I like?”

“Sure,” she answered, lips curling into a smile that mirrored his. “What else?”

It was him that moved closer, causing their noses to brush and their lips to almost touch as he whispered, “Your pink hoodie.”

The laugh that left her was loud, a lot more abrupt than their hushed conversation. Marinette laughed freely, pulling back and resting her head against his shoulder as she let out her amusement, and she could feel his body shake as he was in a similar situation, the both of them clearly too giggly to take the situation seriously.

“You—you just want me for my hoodies,” Marinette finally said, her voice breathy from having barely recovered from her laughter.

She could feel his hand running through her hair before he gently pulled the hat off of her head. “I'd like to think of them as a bonus that come with you,” he mused. “Like if you dated me, I'd absolutely be able to spoil you.”

“According to the government, you don't exist here,” she pointed out.

He made a noise of disapproval. “All I need to do is convince Gabriel to let you visit me and we're fine.”

“Good luck with that,” she answered, not sure whether she was serious or not. She couldn't see Gabriel saying yes to him, not without getting something in return.

His fingers gently smoothed out her hair, getting rid of the frizzy hits that always appeared whenever she wore a hat for too long. “If you agree to go on a date with me, I'll talk to him,” Adrien offered, utterly sincere.

Even with the restrictions, the worry that it would include, Adrien was clearly making his decision known from having thought about the future of their relationship. She couldn't say that she wouldn't have been disappointed if he came back having changed his mind, but to clearly hear him saying that he wanted to date her—even with when they would literally be world-crossed lovers like her world liked to have stories about—made the warm feeling spreading through her hard to ignore.

Sitting upright again, Marinette bravely placed a kiss to his cheek. “I'll go on a date with you even if you don't talk to him.”

When she pulled back, she was quick enough to see the surprise on his expression before it changed into a wide grin. “Really?”

“Only if you keep your cold toes to yourself.”

He raised his chin haughtily. “I'm an angel when I'm asleep.”

With narrowed eyes, Marinette pointed out, “Adrien, your stained my pillow with your make-up.”

“It's not my fault you didn't realise I had any on,” he defended.

They didn't kiss, but they slept closer to each other than they had before. Marinette woke up with her legs tangled with his, her pyjamas trousers up by her thighs, and most of the duvet was on his side, wrapped around him.

She woke him up by flicking his head.

-x-

She was absolutely right about Gabriel wanting something in return. It turned out that his condition for allowing Marinette to go through—when she didn't really need permission, but it would make her life a lot easier if Gabriel had her back with the decision—was that Adrien had one dinner with him alone when he came over.

And as Gabriel was almost convinced that she'd run away and never return, the dinner had to come first.

It was at the end of April. Marinette was in her room, lazily browsing through her laptop, phone propped up beside her so she'd be able to answer Adrien in an instant when he messaged her. She'd had the foresight to put more credit on his phone.

Rather than staying in, as Gabriel barely ever cooked, the two of them went out for dinner. Adrien had been able to spend an hour or two with her, where they watched a film, before he had to disappear.

Mostly, it seemed like Gabriel was trying to learn about his life. Fu had clearly not told him anything, as he didn't even know Adrien's job, and that was something that had Adrien sending her multiple emojis in his messages.

They returned almost two hours later.

The stairs creaked as Adrien came upwards. He knocked on her door twice, even though she knew he was there, and when he came inside, the first thing he did was hold up two fingers in a peace sign and wink at her.

“I guess that's a yes, then,” she assumed, standing up from her desk chair and immediately wrapping her arms around him for a hug. “It wasn't too awkward, right?”

He squeezed her. “Terribly awkward. More so than when I met you.”

She pinched his side. “That was only awkward because you got into bed with me.”

“And now you _let_ me,” he sang. “How times change.”

“You're ridiculous.”

Sadly, he couldn't stay for the night. Chloé had sent him a message that she was going over to his in the evening just as he was going near the portal, and since he hadn't wanted to turn around completely and miss his chance to see her again, he'd only come through for a little while.

He promised to talk to Fu to give him a warning that she'd be coming over in the next few weeks, just to make things easier. They weren't sure whether the other end would be monitored at all, and Marinette knew that going through could potentially cause trouble if she was spotted by the murderer.

The good-bye hug he gave her was tight, and Marinette happily placed another kiss to his cheek, just to see his flustered reaction.

It was incredibly flattering.

The plan was for her to visit the following weekend, when she had no classes and was given the day off of work from Gabriel—as he'd already allowed her to roam freely whenever Adrien was there—but that wasn't what happened.

Instead, the alarms for the second portal triggered through the night. The sound was loud enough to be heard throughout the house, startling her awake, and even though she'd been home when it had gone off before, it had never been in the dead of night when there was no noise.

It was just her and Gabriel at home.

As she heard his footsteps rushing down the stairs, Marinette took her time, slipping on some socks before she followed. She knew that she wouldn't be any help in the situation, and as it took her a while to be fully coherent, it took her a few minutes to realise that her phone wasn't vibrating.

Since she'd given Adrien his phone, he'd messaged her whenever he'd come through.

Her footsteps got a lot faster after that.

Gabriel was already on the phone when she finally got to his doorway. The words were fast, loud, and he was visibly agitated from his posture. There was no denying that something bad had happened, and considering that the alarms had never triggered in the middle of the night before, that could've only meant one thing.

There was no point her running outside to try and catch them. She didn't have a clear image of what they looked like, and they'd already walked out of sight of the cameras. Marinette couldn't be involved without being a nuisance—it wasn't as though she was trained for it either, so she could only hover in the background and try and listen to what was happening.

It happened in a matter of hours.

For being so invested in trying to catch them in the first place, back when Gabriel had convinced her to go through to the other world, the thought of actually _catching_ them hadn't really crossed her mind in the past weeks. Sure, she knew that they'd come through eventually, but she thought they'd be smart and not actually attempt it again.

Then again, they had murdered over six people in the last five years.

She couldn't go to the police station to see them—she wasn't involved, didn't have the clearance, and could only sit in the living room as she tapped her foot nervously, waiting for the results. There was no doubt that it was them, though, as Gabriel had messaged her to say that the fingerprints came out as a positive match to the ones found on the crime scene.

The only worry she had was whether they could actually charge them for anything. She had no idea how the law worked, not even when she worked for Gabriel. Would they be able to charge them when they weren't from their world? They had no identification, no one even know who they were, and it wasn't as though they could pop on over to Kyuon to ask them—

Except she could.

Well, kind of.

When Gabriel returned home, it was with photographs and information all printed out to put into his files, along with keeping another copy on his laptop. He'd taken one look at her wide-eyed on the couch before walking past, ignoring her as he went into his office.

She caught the door before it could shut. “Do you know who they are?”

“Not now, Marinette—”

“I want to help,” she blurted, stepping inside without hesitation. “The only reason you've caught them is because of me, right? I mean, I found out where the other portal is. It's definitely because of me, even though you sent me over there for a bullshit reason—”

“You're _rambling_ ,” Gabriel interrupted, frustration clear in his tone. “You know I hate it when you babble.”

It was a nervous tick she'd never quite gotten rid of. “Answer me.”

“What are you going to do, then?” he countered, sitting down in the chair with a loud sigh. “Run off to Tongsaom with this information and live a happy life?”

Her brow furrowed. “I'm not going to run away.”

“I'm not convinced.”

“I mean, I want to finish school first,” Marinette answered, deciding that honesty was the best policy with him. “There's not really much holding me here. I don't even have friends, and I have a lot more than that over there.”

He closed his eyes. “You mean my son's there.”

She held her tongue to stop herself from correcting him. “Him, too,” she agreed, still not lying. “But I do want to solve this first—they did murder my parents, remember?”

It didn't upset as much as it used to. Sure, it still made her sad at times, but their murder had been shoved in her face by the media for a while after she'd gone to live with Gabriel, and she'd grown used to being without them. Some days, she found it hard to remember their faces before she saw a photograph, but all of that didn't mean that she'd just give up and not investigative further when she was given the opportunity to.

It took two days to convince him that she was willing to do it, but it was only because the police couldn't get anything out of them. It turned out that it was a male, and when she was presented the mugshots of him, she didn't know what to think. Like with other fae, his facial features stood out, even amongst the distinctive facial hair he had, and although she'd expected it, she hadn't expected not to recognise him at all.

When Marinette went through the original portal that weekend, she had a folder placed carefully in her bag, positioned so it wouldn't get creased.

The unknown fae was theorised to be in his early thirties. He hadn't had any identifying items on him, not even a wallet with identification it, but he hadn't had any weapons either. It was unclear whether they were coming through to find their next victim, or if they just wanted to spend time on Earth, like Adrien had.

She came through at the agreed time that she'd arranged with Adrien.

Much like last time, she was dizzy when she went through, and she fell down onto her knees. She became aware of a hand rubbing soothing circles on her back when she'd recovered, and she was a bit embarrassed as Adrien pulled her into a hug.

“I was worried you weren't going to come,” he said as his greeting, holding her tightly.

She promptly burst into tears when she saw Fu smiling at them over his shoulder.

Adrien panicked, frantically asking her what was wrong, but she could only cover her face with her hands as she let out all the stress of the previous few days. The tears were finally coming out and showing no sign of stopping—she was just so relieved to see that he was fine after a week or no contact. It was the shortest that she'd seen him since the new year had started, but with what had happened, she'd wanted nothing more than to get into contact with him.

It suddenly hit her that he knew _nothing_.

Fu was kind enough to direct the two of them into his home. It was good that he was there, though; Marinette had been advised to go to him and fill him in on what was going on, as Gabriel was busy sorting everything out at home.

Her nose was red from her blowing it too many times when she finally reached into her bag. They were at Fu's dining table, steaming mugs placed in front of them, and Adrien had moved his chair closer to her and had placed his hand gently on her thigh to try and comfort her.

That had caused her to cry a little bit more from his kindness.

Opening the folder and taking out one of the photographs, Marinette couldn't avoid showing either of them that the man was in police custody. As she placed it on the table and turned it towards them, her voice cracked as she asked, “Do either of you recognise this man?”

Adrien was the first one to react. “What—what is this?”

She couldn't lift her gaze away from the picture to see how he looked. She didn't want to see it—to see the possibility that he knew exactly who it was, and who could cause such tragic events. With a deep breath, she asked again, “Do you?”

“I—yes,” he stuttered, confusion clear in his voice. “That's Jagged.”

The breath she let out was shaky. “He used your portal.”

“He—he _what_?”

She wasn't the only one that cried that evening. Fu was the most level-headed of all of them, offering the two of them tissues when they cried, and she sobbed even harder when she found out that Jagged's mother had gone through and had been exiled to Earth.

When Adrien admitted that they'd spoken a few times when he was a teenager, back when his mother had first passed away, Marinette couldn't help but choke out, “He—he killed my parents.”

Her eyes fucking hurt as the hours passed.

She couldn't sympathise with him. All she was able to learn, other than that he worked at a music store, was that he'd been adopted by his aunt when his mother had left. That was the fucking tragic backstory that she was offered for his actions, and it had only made her angry.

She hadn't turned into a monster from her parents being murdered.

Even when she was angry at how the world treated her, she'd never contemplated—or even acted upon—aggressive thoughts or wanting to commit violent acts. She'd always just locked herself away in her bedroom and cried rather than causing anyone else trouble.

She couldn't stay the night.

When Adrien walked back to the portal with her with printed out pictures of Jagged's social media pages, as that was the best she could do for confirmation at that point, his eyes and nose were just as red as hers. There was nothing happy about the occasion, not at all.

“You can't come through,” she reminded him, eyes stinging. “If you or Chloé, or even anyone, goes through, they'll arrest you without giving you a chance. There's already so much trouble because of Jagged.”

His smile didn't reach his eyes. “I haven't showed her where it is, it's okay.”

“You _can't_.”

When she'd first told him that through teary eyes, he hadn't believed her. Marinette had been told to pass it onto him with the utmost seriousness to try and convey how real it was; Gabriel had said that the portals were being more closely guarded than they were before because of what had happened, meaning more than them were on them at that moment, just in case Jagged had an accomplice.

She sniffed loudly. “I'm... I'm going to come back here when I've finished university.”

“What?” Adrien asked, sounding winded. “What do—”

“I'll get my qualifications and hope they'll count for something,” she interrupted, reaching out to take his hands into her own. “It's—it's only a month and a half.”

His red-rimmed eyes were wide as he looked down at her, lips silently parted.

“I-I don't really have anything keeping me here,” Marinette admitted, not able to look him in the eyes, choosing instead to stare down at where his hands had started to grip her tightly. “You can't come here, but there's nothing saying that I can't come to you.”

There was a beat of silence before he quietly asked, “...And stay?”

“If that's okay,” she replied softly, even though she knew that it wasn't up to him.

There was the matter of her being classed as a missing person, or that she'd technically exiled herself by running away the first time. She doubted that saying she was trying to solve murders would hold up to them as it was; they probably didn't care that exiled fae and a few humans had been slashed in the past years.

She nervously wetted her lips.

When Adrien spoke, it was to tentatively say, “Andre might be able to help you.”

“Maybe.” She wasn't too convinced. “I might have to hide away in a cardboard box for a while and try not to see what happens. What even is the punishment for someone exiled coming back?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted, squeezing her hand. “It's never happened before. I think it was just a thing of pride before—my mother and everyone was welcome back with open arms, after all.”

A weak laugh escaped her. “Let's hope they welcome me and agree that my diploma is worth something. I really don't want to go through school again.”

“You have to finish first,” he whispered, pulling her close for a hug. “You promise you're not—not going to stand me up?”

She breathed out slowly. “Never.”

“You can stay with me,” he blurted. “When—when you come over, I mean. If Chloé doesn't want you back.”

The mention of Chloé had her pulling back slightly to inspect his blemish-less cheek. “I think she might hit me with more than my phone when she sees me.”

“Maybe,” he started slowly. “But I've got pictures of the evidence from earlier. I'll try and explain it to her and Andre the best I can. I'm sure Fu can back me up, too.”

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “Trying to un-exile me?”

The look he gave her was utterly fond as he leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. “I can't take a criminal on a date now, can I?”

“I guess not,” she agreed, a sincere laugh escaping. “You've got a month and a half to try and do it, otherwise you'll have to wear a disguise with me when we go out.”

He grinned. “I'll invest in some wigs for you.”

-x-

Jagged was a bitter thirty-something man.

His mother had left him to go to Earth, taken their dog along with her, and since his father was dead, he'd grown up mirroring his aunt's resentment. It wasn't a sympathetic story in her eyes, but there were a few that voiced their opinions as the news continued to play daily, each reporter trying to take a different angle to try and reveal more of his life, even though they didn't know him.

Jagged hadn't given any interviews, but that didn't seem to matter. Some of the fae that had known his mother had spoken out, saying what a good woman she was, but she was the one murdered on the third year.

It annoyed her how some people were supportive of him.

The security for the portals were upped. While the first one had been untouched so Fu could contact Gabriel, and to allow others to come and go, even though it had never happened other than Fu and Marinette, Adrien's portal was deemed unnecessary.

They'd tried a lot to get rid of it. Their attempts were aired on the news, sadly, and after they'd dried to dig up the stone without any success, it was covered with a thick layer of cement before a statue was put on top of it, making it impossible for anyone to gain access to it.

Two of Gabriel's co-workers were arrested for helping Jagged after the first month had passed.

Marinette had thrown up when that was revealed.

She'd been in the same house as them at least once a week for five years, and that thought had caused her throat to grow uncomfortably dry as she let her thoughts cause her to vomit. It was absolutely horrible, and when she remembered the way they'd looked at her in distaste, she emptied the contents of her stomach again.

Since the arrest, and conviction that had swiftly happened a few days after Marinette had come back, every fae was receiving a lot more attention with people asking their opinion. Marinette was frustrated when reporters turned up at her university, trying to ask her questions and making her late for class, and with every article that came out revolving around Jagged, she grew more fed up with the world.

It wasn't like she _hated_ humans.

She just didn't like how they treated her.

Sure, Kyuon wasn't much better with the hate, but she wouldn't be gawked or stared at on a daily basis. She'd be able to rest and do whatever she wanted without people wanting to know her opinion, and she wouldn't have to deal with eyes following her whenever she had to take her hat off.

Gabriel sat her down two weeks before her graduation to ask whether she was serious about leaving.

“I am,” she confirmed without hesitation, tucking her legs underneath her on the couch. “What would I ever stay here for? To become a trashy celebrity because of my fucking ears?”

“Stop swearing,” he scolded without any heat. “You know I hate it when you talk to me like that.”

He hated a lot of things, but she didn't voice that thought.

“Marinette,“Gabriel started, a sigh escaping his lips. “I know that I... I haven't treated you well.”

That caused her to laugh before she could stop herself.

His glare promptly shut her up, though.

He cleared his throat. “I haven't been a parent to you.”

“No,” she agreed, nodding her head. “But you stopped someone else from adopting me and making me a show pony or something. I can't say I _like_ you, but you didn't misuse me.”

He pursed his lips. “But I did.”

To hear him say that, to actually admit he was wrong when he used to just wave her off and never admit that something had been his fault, was something new. “Well, kind of,” Marinette admitted, leaning back against the cushions. “But you sending me over there's probably the best thing you've ever done for me, even if it was for fucked up reasons.”

The silence between them wasn't stifling. She didn't want to flee and get the conversation over and done with immediately, for once.

Gabriel broke it to ask awkwardly, “You will be well there, won't you?”

“Yes,” she replied without missing a beat. “Your son will treat me well, too, if that's what you're wanting to ask.”

It was probably the first and last time that she'd actually refer to Adrien as that. There was nothing holding him to Gabriel; while her boss had tried to awkwardly establish a connection, the only person that Adrien had wanted to keep in contact with from Earth was her.

And that was already hard enough.

The last two weeks were horrendously long. Marinette constantly checked the date to make sure that she was ready to leave for the day she'd told Adrien—along with the time that she'd kept jotted down on a piece of paper that she'd stuck on her wall—and slowly packed her clothes away, deciding to take much more than one bag along with her.

She laughed almost hysterically when the pocketknife fell out of the bag when she picked it up.

It was so ridiculous to think back on how worried she'd been back in the beginning, and yet, almost six months later, she was readily abandoning the life she had to move there without any regrets. It wasn't as though she actually had friends back at home; she had no parents, no pets to keep close, and her university courses were coming to an end, meaning she was going to bring everything she could over to prove that she was a competent chef.

Money would be her problem at first, but she knew Adrien would help her out until she was able to find a job. Hopefully, he'd been able to talk to Andre to sort everything out.

As with the first time, Gabriel walked her out to the portal. He'd promised her that it was fine that the cameras weren't turned off, as they it was never specified that it was restricted from their side.

“I guess this is good-bye,” she awkwardly said, putting one of her bags down on the floor so she could offer her hand out for a handshake.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows at that.

She shifted on the spot, embarrassed.

“Good-bye, Marinette,” he eventually said, stiffly shaking her hand. “I hope this works out well for you.”

“Yeah,” she replied, offering him a smile. “Me, too.”

There was no awkward hug, no teary good-bye, or even a proclamation that he'd miss her. She hadn't expected any of that, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't have been nice to see. She had to wonder how Adrien would've been if he'd grown up with him—would he still be as bright as he was?

Witha droplet of blood and the portal appearing before her, causing her to blink a few times, Marinette turned her head and nodded at him. “See you.”

That time, she didn't fall to her knees when she went through. She still felt dizzy from the sudden change, but she managed to stay upright. However, her grip on her bags loosened and they fell to the floor, causing her to curse underneath her breath.

It was as she kneeled down to collect them that she heard, “Marinette?”

There was only one voice that it could be.

Startled, she got up onto her feet, catching sight of his blond-coloured hair standing out against the forest. She ran towards him quickly, smile widening as he opened his arms in a clear invitation, and she collided with him with enough force for her to hear the breath escape his mouth as she buried her head into his chest.

“You're here,” she murmured, sounding breathless.

“Of course.” Adrien wrapped his arms around her, bringing her as close as possible. “I said I would be, didn't I?”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. “I—I just expected the worst, really.”

“Well, no one's here to arrest you,” he assured her, a laugh coming out at the end as he ran his fingers through her loose hair. “Fu helped to sort it out.”

Her voice cracked as she asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, pulling back a little and brushing her bangs away from her forehead. There wasn't much he could do with her hat in place, but he was able to lean down and place a kiss to the revealed skin there, making her feel warm. “It's kind of hush hush, though. Jagged's the missing person now.”

A choked laugh escaped her. “What?”

“Can't exactly tell everyone that he's killed some humans, can we?” he mused. “It'll just make him a hero in some people's eyes—even if the portal's illegal. It's better this way, trust me.”

It was happening so fast. She'd been panicking over whether he'd appear at all, too focused on him to contemplate whether anyone would miss Jagged; it had been close to two months that he'd been gone, after all, but it had skipped her mind that there would be a search for him.

She swallowed. “How badly is Chloé going to kill me?”

“She'll have to get through me first.” He winked. “I'll protect you.”

“That doesn't sound reassuring at all,” she muttered, smile betraying her words. “Does—does this mean I'm actually allowed here?”

He grinned. “Just gotta report to Andre tomorrow so he can take you in. I lied and said that you weren't getting here until then.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows. “And what are we doing until then?”

With a laugh, Adrien bumped his nose gently against hers, “Going on our date, of course.”

“Does that mean I get to finally sleep in your bed?” Marinette questioned, looking at him innocently. “I think you've been in mine more than enough.”

Adrien's laughter was infectious. “I'll even let you borrow some pyjamas.”

“Sadly, I packed pyjamas,” she mused. “How about you kiss me instead?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Is that a suggestion?”

“It's a demand, actually.” She sniffed. “You're not going to keep me waiting any longer, are you?”

Rather than reply verbally, his response was to press a kiss on the end of her nose.

Marinette made an exaggerated noise of protest as she hit his chest—not hard enough to cause any pain—and narrowed her eyes at him.

Adrien smiled wider. “No?”

“No,” she echoed. “Maybe I really should take my hoodie back. I don't think you deserve it any more.”

He gasped. “You wouldn't.”

“Kiss me or I'm taking it back.”

Childishly jutting his lower lip out, Adrien replied, “But I already can't use your pink phone any more.”

“I'm taking all the pink,” she declared, “unless you kiss me right now.”

As he moved closer, nose brushing hers, he murmured softly, “Well, we can't have that.”

She was the one to close her eyes and gently press her lips against his. They were warm, as soft as his voice had been moments ago, and she happily tilted her head upwards to try and get a better angle as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The height difference was a bit of a problem, but she didn't mind as he tentatively responded, returning the kiss as calmly as he could, not making it uncomfortable in the slightest.

The way she could feel his breath against her skin was attractive, and even though their teeth almost clashed a few times and she had to turn her head to try and get more comfortable, it was easily a kiss that she'd always wanted. It wasn't a moment where her hands were clammy from nerves; rather, she was happy with what they were doing, not wondering whether she was messing up.

It was clear that he agreed with her thoughts as the arms that were looped around her waist pulled her closer, making it to they were chest-to-chest as her heartbeat became more pronounced.

It wasn't overly enthusiastic or raunchy—it was pretty innocent, actually, and when she pulled away and caught sight of his reddened lips, her smile grew.

“You can keep the hoodie.”

His laughter was honest and slightly high-pitched and breathy. “Really?”

“It was a good kiss,” she proclaimed, shrugging a little. “You deserve a reward for it.”

Raising his eyebrows, Adrien asked, “And what if I kiss you again?”

“Then I'll gift you more pink clothing.”

He grinned. “Seems like a pretty good deal to me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://xiueryn.tumblr.com) ♥～('▽^人)


End file.
